


Well, I wear this fuckin’ mask because you cannot handle me

by OnlyOneWoman



Series: Unleash Me From My Darkness [1]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animal Abuse, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Bathing/Washing, But You Totally Deserved One, Caring, Chastity Device, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub marriage, Domestic Discipline, Domestic Fluff, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Feeding, Figging, Fluff and Angst, Foreplay, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Humiliation kink, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Never Promised You A Rose Garden - Freeform, I'm Not Ashamed, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Just forget all about canon, Like lots of it, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Massage, Mentions of past abuse, Minor Characters that really aren't important just part of the surroundings, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-Canon all over the fucking place, Non-Consensual Haircuts, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Pampering, Panties, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Picnics, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Porn, Praise Kink, Pre-Spanking Conversation, Rimming, Roleplay, Self-Harm, Smut, Spanking, Strict Chibs, Teasing, Tenderness, Therapy, Threesome - M/M/M, To Listen, True Love, Voluntary Medic, at all, babying, dominant!Chibs, it's all consensual, just a little, past abusive relationships, past self-harm, submissive!Juice, versatile!Tully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 07:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 55,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15287142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: Oh boy, I'm a bit nervous about this idea. Well, this is NOT a part of my other SoA series and these are the premesies:1. It's AU and non-canon, meaning there is no Samcro, Ron Tully is neither a nazi nor a rapist and just about everything about SoA except for three characters, some of their show features and looks is changed. In other words: Don't look for anything canon here.2. I LOVE to make completely non-canon shit in fanfics. In fact, it's very rare for me to keep close to canon, and if you don't like the idea of using these characters outside canon stuff, you're hereby warned. I'm going so way off canon here, it's basically just me loving the idea of making porn out of hot men, okay?3. Comments that complaints about lacking canon content, or me turning Tully into a very non-nazi lover, will receive politely yet a bit annoyed answers.4. Always read the tags. ALWAYS. Also: be aware that since I just had this idea and couldn't stop myself from posting right away, not all tags will be added right away, but added as the story goes on.The title is shamelessly stolen from Marilyn Manson's song "Organ Grinder".





	1. Chapter 1

”Ortiz! Can you take a look at this?”  
“Just a sec.”  
  
Juice finished filling a column, the numbers almost dancing before his eyes, and sighed. The office was a goddamn sauna, his chair plastering against his damp chinos and the tie felt like some kind of strangling plant around his neck. It was Friday afternoon and Juice’s boss on a particularly foul mood due to, in his opinion, bad figures and stupid customers. In the latter, Juice honestly agreed with him, but the man’s habit of taking it out on his employees, was just moronic and depressing.  
  
The clock on the wall moved too slowly and Juice tried to will his nervous twitches away. If Mr. Daniels asked him to work overtime today, he’d have to refuse and that was something Juice wanted to avoid as far as possible. Both Daddy and Papi used to say he was too eager to please, on the job as well as the hobby garage he shared with a bunch of MC buddies and his friends. They were right.  
  
While trying to help Mr. Daniels with bullshit problems the man could’ve dealt with himself had he not been so fucking impatient, Juice counted the minutes. It took time and patience to work out a scheadule that suited all three of them. Work, partners, hobbies… Unexpected little rocks on the road that sometimes just ruined their plans. Daddy sometimes huffed that wasn’t it for the bloody logistics, more people would allow themselves the joys of sharing. Something that often prompted Papi to tease Daddy about his inability to share the remote control and peanut butter.  
  
It was probably a very good thing the three of them didn’t live together or even met on daily basis, Juice mused as he fought against the urge to simply pretend to work. In the last four months, he’d been promoted which sounded good on paper, but it meant being forced to take charge. He managed well enough. Juice knew he was better than most of his collegues on the job, but to lead… No, that didn’t suit him at all. Mostly it meant trying to show a brave face and keep his inner chaos in control, which left him exhausted. Only Papi and Daddy could make him rest properly and the thought of being in their care for two whole days and nights, sent a shiver of happiness down Juice’s spine.  
  
Finally, people started to shut down their computors and Juice noticed how tense he was as he prepared to leave. Elle, one of his co-workers, stayed by his desk on her way out.  
  
“You’re coming with us to Chili’s, Juice?”  
“Sorry, not tonight, Elle.”  
  
Juice managed a decent sorry-but-really-not-sorry smile and Elle grinned.  
  
“You’ve got a date, or something?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Come on, what’s her name?”  
“Philippa.”  
“Philippa-what?”  
“Ronea.”  
“I don’t know anyone with that name.”  
  
Now it was Juice’s turn to grin.  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
Elle gave him a playful shove and pouted.  
  
“You’re such a tease, Juice! I’m gonna find out who she is, you know that.”  
“No, you wont.”  
  
Juice grabbed his satchel and jacket.  
  
“Actually, she’s one of them sugarmommies looking for a pretty brown boy to spoil. You want me to ask if she’s into blondies too?”  
“Gross! Now you’re just nasty.”  
“Then stop snooping around, Elle.”  
“Well, I hope you’re not gonna abandon me like this every weekend.”  
  
Unfortunately not, Juice thought, regretting the thought almost immediately. He liked Elle, after all, but some weekends were… well, lets say, _sacred_. And not in church going kind of way. Juice almost blushed at the thought and gave Elle a quick peck on cheek.  
  
“Never. See you Monday, blondie.”  
“Asshole. Still movie night next Sunday though?”  
“Absolutely. Your place, popcorn and too much booze. Gotta go now.”  
“Have a nice whatever you’re doing-weekend.”  
“You too. Bye.”  
“Bye.”  
  
When he stepped out of the office, Juice felt just how tired he really was. The stress seemed to come in waves with the heat and suddenly, all the noises, sights and smells coming from the crowded street of Friday shoppers, getting whatever shit they needed for the weekend, made him dizzy. A beep from his pocket caught his attention and he hauled up the cell, looking at the screen with an exhausted smile.  
_  
DC: We’re here._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Daddy and Papi :)

“Little darlin’…”  
“Daddy…”  
  
It always amazed Juice a little, how he seemed to just melt into Daddy’s arms. The hug was firm and warm and the man placed a small kiss on Juice’s forehead.  
  
“Ye look tired, Juicy. Lemme take yer bag.”  
“Hop on in, baby boy.”  
  
Juice smiled at the other man.  
  
“Hey, Papi.”  
  
As usual, Papi was driving the truck and had his slightly teasing smile as he leaned over to peck Juice’s cheek. Daddy, who usually prefered his bike, closed the door and sat down in the front. As he looked up in the rearview mirror, he frowned.  
  
“Juicy, did ye forget to eat again?”  
“Uhm…”  
  
Papi rose his shaved eyebrows.  
  
“No lying to your Daddy, baby boy.”  
“No, Papi. I… had breakfast, Daddy, but only half of my lunch.”  
“Which was…?”  
“Uhm… A cheese bagel and coffee on the run and… half a salad sandwich and more coffee for lunch…”  
“Laddie…”  
  
Daddy sounded very disappointed and Juice almost started crying. He hated to let people down, hated it with every fibre in his body and most of all, he hated to disappoint Daddy and Papi. He looked down at his hands.  
  
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry, Papi. I’ve just… not been hungry.”  
“And what have we told you to do when that happens?”  
“To… give you or Daddy a call...”  
“Exactly, baby boy.”  
“I’m sorry, I…”  
“Don’ rile him up, Ron.”  
  
Daddy gave Papi a look and then Papi turned around to pat Juice on the knee.  
  
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Papi gets a little worried about his baby boy, that’s all. You’re so precious to me and your Daddy, you know. We love you.”  
“I… I love you too, Papi. Both of you. I’ll finish my plate this weekend, I promise. Even… even if I’m not hungry.”  
  
Papi gave one of his wonderful, warm smiles at him and Daddy reached back to take Juice’s hand and squeeze it a little.  
  
“Good boy. We’ll have a nice weekend together, aye?”  
“Yeah, Daddy.”  
  
Juice relaxed further and let go of his Daddy’s hand to sink back onto the seat. He was so tired his body ached from it, all knots and nervous bundles of energy that refused to turn into something useful. The biker, middle manager, mechanic and a tad bit socially awkward computor geek, curled into a ball the best he could and just listened to his daddies low, soothing voices as they talked to each other.  
  
He didn’t mind not being involved in the conversation, quite the opposite. The car ride took a while, Papi wasn’t much for driving fast, except when he rode behind Daddy on the bike. Juice loved that too, sitting tightly pressed against Daddy’s broad frame and feel the engine roar and how the vibrations pushed him closer to the man. Watching Papi, tall and upright behind Daddy was almost better though. Just seeing them together, following Papi’s moves with Daddy as if they were both one with the bike… Strong, proud and tall men, in total control of the bike, the road, their bodies…  Of their baby boy.  
  
Papi turned up the radio and to the sound of David Bowie’s _We Are The Dead_ , which Daddy wasn’t very fond of but abided with because he loved Papi so much, Juice fell asleep and left the biker, middle manager, mechanic and computor geek behind for the weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seriously just doing this completely without a real plan. I just have a sudden urge for making daddy kink with these three idiots... And oh, I completely blame TCD and her smashing series "My Comforter" <3 ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Praise kink. Praise kink everywhere...

“Wake up, baby boy… We’re home.”  
  
Juice didn’t open his eyes immediately, he just listened to the low rumble from his Papi and, on instinct, leaned closer to the sound. The scent of the tall, pale man was soothing as well. Something drowsy and almost feminine, while Daddy smelled like gasoline and gunpowder. Scents that for a long time now, had reminded Juice of safety and pleasure.  
  
Papi gave him a soft kiss on his cheek and Juice looked up. The man still seemed a little worried and Juice opened his mouth to make it go away, when Papi shook his head.  
  
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart, you know the rules.”  
“Not worry…”  
“That’s right. We don’t want to break too many rules and have Daddy take us over his knee before we’ve even had dinner, right baby boy?”  
  
Juice quickly shook his head, squeezing his lips together. Papi stroke his hair, now smiling again.  
  
“Trust Papi, I’ll give you exactly what you need, angel. Daddy too. He takes such good care of me as well, you know.”  
“World’s greatest husband…”  
  
Now Papi chuckled and Juice beamed, knowing he’d made him smile. Papi had given Daddy one of them corny coffee mugs screaming out _World’s Greatest Husband_ in a ridiculous font Daddy pretended he thought was too silly, but he always used it. Papi stroke Juice’s cheek.  
  
“That’s right, sweetheart, he is. Now, lets get inside.”  
  
The house Daddy and Papi owned, was small and cozy. Papi put pride in keeping it neat and clean and the moment Juice stepped inside, another piece of the world outside seemed to fall off. It was like peeling an onion, Juice thought as he removed his boots and jacket. Tension, worry, stress... Daddy and Papi would help him get rid of all that, every itching, aching layer until he was himself again. The thought made his belly warm and fuzzy.  
  
“Wash yer hands before dinner, Juice.”  
  
Daddy was already in the kitchen, putting a large, precooked lasagna to warm in the oven.  
  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
  
Simple instructions. Orders, really. It was so odd, how that alone could make him feel so good. How the opportunity to obey and please his married lovers, safely away from judging eyes and ears, just seemed to make his mind go all calm and floating. Not right away, though. Winding down and settle into his role always took time. The worse the stress, the longer time it took. It was bad today.  
  
“Juicyboy?”  
  
He almost jumped and turned around to the Scottish man in the doorway.  
  
“So-sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to slack.”  
“I’m not scoldin’ ye, laddie. C’mere.”  
  
Juice all but pressed himself into the man’s arms, shuddering at the feeling of them coming around him.  
  
“Shh, Juicyboy, s’all good, lil’ one. Jus’ tell Daddy wha’s on yer mind, aye?”  
“I… Daddy, I’m so tired…”  
  
_Whiny ass bitch._  
  
It was always hard keeping the inner critic silent when Daddy and Papi weren’t around and it seemed to have lingered a bit longer than usual. It had just been too long since Juice were with them and as much as he desperately wanted to relax, it was a real struggle today. So was finding the right words.  
  
“Filip? Baby boy? Oh, sweetheart, what’s going on?”  
“Our lil’ one seems to have had some rough weeks since his last visit, am I right, Juicyboy?”  
“Y-yes, Daddy. So-sorry.”  
“Now, what have we told you about apologizing for things that aren’t naughty, baby boy?”  
  
Papi had come close too now, his strong chest against Juice’s back, closing him between both men like a human secure. Juice could feel their hearbeats, how the sound of them started to outvote his own frantic thoughts and he let out a small whimper.  
  
“I'm not good on my own, Papi. My head gets so loud and nothing syncs up. I start thinking about my thinking and getting lost in the details of nothing…”  
  
He took a deep breath, almost feeling dizzy now.  
  
“I’m sorry, Papi, I didn’t… Didn’t answer your question properly. I… I’m not supposed to apologise for things that aren’t naughty.”  
“And is it naughty to have had a rough time, baby boy?”  
“No, Papi.”  
“You’re right, it isn’t.”  
“And it’s not naughty havin’ a hard time finding words, laddie. Tha’s wha’ _we’re_ here for.”  
“I know, Daddy. I love you. You an’ Papi.”  
“Atta boy… We love ye too, Juicy. Ye’re our good lad.”  
“Such a sweet boy, Juice… Our little ray of sunshine…”  
  
Papi slurred his words, the accent almost as pronounced as Daddys’ brogue and the praise and closeness, this absolute focus on _him_ and his need to please, drew a shudder from Juice’s body and the inner, messy critique finally turned it’s voice down to a mere mumble, easily shut down by his daddies’ words and bodies.  
  
“Gonna take such good care of our boy, aren’t we, Filip?”  
“Aye, love. We are. We absolutely are…”


	4. Chapter 4

It never ceased to amaze Juice how his daddies were with each other. He’d not called them by their actual names since the day they’d signed the contract, not even in his thoughts. Filip Telford and Ron Telford-Tully had become strange titles belonging to the world outside the safe space they’d created and they’d never been forced to punish him for breaking that rule, ever. Who they were outside this little world of their own, didn’t matter at all.  
  
As they had dinner, Juice eagerly listened to Daddy’s and Papi’s conversation. He knew they’d never talk about things that he wasn’t supposed to hear or that would risk sticking onto his own thoughts. He never grew tired of seeing how Papi valeted Daddy, re-filled his glass with beer without having been asked and how Daddy would reward every single sign of devotion, never letting them pass without a smile, a brush on Papi’s cheek or just a simple _thank ye, love_.  
  
Every other pair, or friends or collegues or whatever relationships Juice had witnessed or been a part of, seemed very much like a battle of wills in comparison. Daddy and Papi had been married for more than twenty years and the premises for their marriage had been the same ever since the beginning. When Juice once had pointed out that it, in fact, hadn’t been legal with gay marriages for that long, Papi had just laughed and kissed his hair, telling in that teasing yet dead sure voice that what Daddy says goes and no laws or governments would ever change that. The bond between the men went deep and all that mattered, was how _they_ defined it. Anarchy at it’s finest, really.  
  
Papi put his fork down and nodded at Juice.  
  
“I know you’re struggling, baby boy, but try and take another bite. You need the nourishment.”  
“Yes, Papi. I _do_ love your lasagna, you know.”  
“Thank you, sweetheart.”  
  
Juice took his fork and had a bite.  
  
“Good boy.”  
  
It was dangerous, being a pleaser, Papi used to say. Mostly it lead to people doing things they didn’t even want to do in the first place and in worst case, those things were actually bad and could end you up in prison or worse. Even if the need didn’t push you to cross such borders, it could still be dangerous. Make you go for things and people that weren’t good for you, who couldn’t handle power without being abusive. Or, as Daddy would put it, _actin’ like bloody arseholes_.  
  
Here, with him and Papi, it was safe. They would take care of him, he would obey and the mess would sync up. Whenever his inner critique questioned that, like now, Juice looked at his Papi. It wasn’t polite to stare, but it was absolutely fine to fix eyes on him or Daddy to keep stable. They always seemed to know when Juice needed to look at any of them like that.  
  
Both men had a lot of ink, especially Papi, and Juice loved to look at them all. His own ink were hidden while at work and only partly visible in the garage or the gym. He’d never really felt comfortable being looked at, always felt a need to disappear and not having to peel looks off his skin. Ridiculous in a way, because ink _made_ people look, but as so often, Juice’s mind seemed unable to be consistent.  
  
“Juice?”  
  
Juice shivered, not the good kind, blushing for his bad behavior.  
  
“I’m sorry, Papi. My head… ‘s so messy today.”  
  
He bit his lip, fighting the tears now, really, because _fucking hell_ , he was tired. Papi moved closer and gave him a kiss on his temple.  
  
“My poor baby boy, so stressed out. Here, let me.”  
  
Papi gently took the fork from him and pierced a piece of lasagna on it.  
  
“Open your mouth, sweetheart.”  
  
Juice blushed even deeper, but obeyed and took the bite.  
  
“ _Good_ boy.”  
  
The emphasy on it mixed with the sliver of shame that used to linger for the first hour or two with his daddies. The transformation always took a little while and Daddy and Papi knew that. They wanted the passage to be as gentle and smooth as possible, obedience should come naturally, like a force on it’s own. Daddy said it was a strenght, one he didn’t possess. That was one of the reasons he loved Papi so much. Papi had the strenght to trust Daddy completely and that was a rare gift one had to handle with devotion and utmost respect.  
  
So, Juice dutifully let Papi coax him into finish his plate, one mouthful at the time, encouraged by Daddy’s warm looks and the almost lazy way Papi would gibber about, gossip really about everything and nothing without expecting any answers. It was soothing, this endless one way blabbering that Juice during his first encounters with the pair had interpreted as Daddy only tolerating without really listening or caring.  
  
The seemingly insignificant stream of words and the lack of verbal respond appeared to be a miscommunication, but Juice had learned that Daddy was anything but uninterested or irritated. He simply loved listening to his husband and would savor every word in order to find out exacly what he had to say. Later, when they had time for themselves, just the two of them without Juice, Daddy would answer and afterwards, whatever trouble or weariness that Papi had carried around, were gone. Sometimes without even naming them directly. That's how good a listener Daddy was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juice has a much needed talk with Papi.

“ _Please_ , Papi?”  
“You know that’s not how we run things, baby boy. Daddy knows best.”  
“But it’s… easier with just you.”  
“And that’s why you need your Daddy right now.”  
“You’ll be there, though… Watching.”  
“Why are you so embarressed by that, sweetheart? You know fully well that Daddy does it to me too.”  
“Yeah, but not in front of anyone.”  
“That’s because we’re married and we’re not sharing that kind of intimacy with others. Which you _also_ know, Juice.”  
  
He knew. Of course he did. Nothing about this came as a surprise, not really. It was only his emotions that never seemed to fully understand that. It always felt new and although Daddy and Papi both had assured, and would keep assuring him, that it was perfectly okay to feel what he did and that it was good, even necessary, that he shared those feelings with them whenever he needed to, the shame had deep-seated roots.  
  
Papi had him straddling his lap on the couch in the living room, gently stroking Juice’s overly tense shoulders as Daddy cleared the table and did the dishes after dinner out in the kitchen. The sounds from water and porcelain were homey, as were the Irish folk songs coming from the shelf stereo on the kitchen table. Juice swallowed.  
  
“Sorry, I’m so whiny, Papi.”  
“It’s okay, my love. I know you’re embarrassed, but you want to be a good boy for Daddy and Papi, right?"  
“I do.”  
“And you know we love you.”  
“I guess…”  
“Sorry, what was that, baby boy?”  
“Yes, Papi. I know. And I love you too.”  
  
Juice looked down. He’d spoken out of terms and without looking directly, he could tell Papi had a scowl on his face, although he still kept carressing Juice’s back.   
  
“You know, when you’re disrespectful like you just were, I don’t get angry, baby boy. You know why?”  
“No, Papi.”  
“It’s because Papi knows that you only act like that, when you’re afraid of something.”  
“I’m not afraid.”  
“Yes, you are, my sweet, stubborn boy. Daddy knows best, yes, but Papi knows quite a lot as well, doesn’t he?”  
“Yes, Papi. You do.”  
“So how about you tell Papi exactly what’s bothering you right now? In your own words, boy, take your time.”  
“I…”  
  
The sounds from the kitchen had become fewer now, meaning Daddy would join them soon, and Juice didn’t want to act like this. He took a deep breath, accepting Papi wouldn’t let him off the hook before he anwered properly.  
  
“I feel… so embarressed being spanked in front of anyone, Papi.”  
“Laying bare-bottomed across another man’s lap _is_ embarressing, sweetheart. That’s the idea.”  
“And he’s… Sorry, Daddy is just… so _rough_.”  
“You’re not afraid he’s gonna _harm_ you, are you, baby boy?”  
  
Papi almost sounded worried for real now and Juice shook his head.  
  
“No, no not harm me… I trust Daddy with my life, but I… I don’t know, Papi, I just feel so jumpy today, I don’t even know why… Not sure I can handle it.”  
“Sweet boy…”  
  
Papi took Juice’s face between his palms and gave him a kiss on his forehead.  
  
“You now how Daddy does this with me, right?”  
“He… he’s not telling you why.”  
“Because he doesn’t _have_ to, love.”  
  
Papi now nuzzled his ear.  
  
“I know, without a doubt, when Daddy tells me to lay across his lap, that I need it, even if _I_ can’t figure out why in that moment. And it hurts and I cry and I’m confused, but _he_ knows why he’s doing it, baby boy. He’s not guessing, he’s not frustrated or angry with me. And afterwards, when he’s done and I’ve stopped crying, he’ll cuddle me and tell me everything I need to hear.”  
“An’ reward you… for being a good husband…”  
  
Papi smiled.  
  
“As we will reward _you_ if you’re a good boy, sweetheart. And he’d never ever give you more than you can handle, of _anything_. I promise.”  
  
Juice smiled too. It felt better already, but he still needed some assurance.  
  
“Papi?”  
“Yes, sweetheart?”  
“Can… can I have your pillow when Daddy spank me?”  
“Tell you what, baby boy… I’ll ask if you can lay on my pillow in my lap, so I can hold you. How does that sound?”   
  
Juice practically threw his arms around the man’s neck.   
  
“Oh, Papi… You’re the best!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another much needed chat, this time with Daddy.

“I’m not angry with ye, lil’ one. Come an’ sit here.”  
  
Daddy stood by the kitchen table, tovel still in his hand from the dishes and Juice took a deep breath, sitting down on the chair Daddy pointed at. They were alone in there, Papi had gone elsewhere and Juice found himself looking for him in the doorway. The relief he’d felt only moments ago was gone and he put his hands under his thighs, forcing them still to stop the nervous twitching that otherwise would turn into full blossom.  
  
“Ye know, it makes me sad, Juice, seeing ye so stressed and anxious. No, laddie, don’ interrupt now.”  
  
Juice, who’d been on his way to start apologizing again, shut his mouth and did his best to look at Daddy. The Scot sat down at the table himself and held out his hand. Juice immediately released one of his own from it’s locked position and grabbed Daddy.  
  
“I know ye know tha’ we love ye, Juicy, but I don’ mind remindin’ ye. Ye comin’ into our lives, has been so precius to us. Knowing tha’ ye’re willing to let us guide ye, take care o’ ye… Tha’s a gift few people would ever be brave enough to give.”  
“Don’t feel brave, Daddy.”  
“Good. People who think they’re brave, are the last ones to actually _do_ anythin’ brave. Yer Papi told me ye asked him to spank ye in private.”  
  
In other words: trying to get out of an embarressing situation instead of doing what he actually needs and embracing it. Juice knew that. He also knew he wasn’t getting away with it and how a part of him didn’t want to get away at all. It just wasn’t very loud right now.  
  
“I… I know that was wrong of me, Daddy. I’m sorry.”  
“Ye’re forgiven, lovey. I can see ye’re in a bad head space right now an’ I’ll tell ye again I’m not angry with ye, or disappointed. But I _know_ ye, Juicy. If we drag this out any longer now, ye’ll just get more worried an’ end up sayin’ an’ doin’ things that’ll lead straight to the rod instead o’ my hand. How about we try an’ avoid tha’ scenario?”  
“Y-yeah. Yes, Daddy. Daddy?”  
“Aye, darlin’?”  
“Can… can Papi still hold me?”  
“Of course, lil’ one. No shame, Juice. Tha’s _not_ why we’re doin’ this, remember?”  
“I know, Daddy.”  
  
Daddy leaned over to kiss his forehead and then raised from the chair.  
  
“Gonnae take yer spanking like a good boy, aye?”  
  
Juice felt a twitch in his stomach, that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, and he nodded.  
  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Atta boy. Now go to yer Papi in the bedroom an’ wait a minute until I’m finished here, alright?”  
“Yes, Daddy. Thank you.”  
  
Daddy gave him another kiss, this time on the cheek, and smiled before pointing at the door. Juice padded upstairs to Daddy’s and Papi’s bedroom, where Papi already had laid out a pillow on the kingsized bed. He smiled when Juice entered.  
  
“You had a good chat with Daddy, sweetheart?”  
“Yes, Papi. He… he helped me.”  
“I knew he would, baby boy.”  
  
Juice nodded but he still couldn’t manage to keep still. He kept tugging at his t-shirt sleeves, walking restlessly back and forth, until Papi simply pulled him to sit on his lap. Juice hid his face in the crook of Papi’s neck as the man cuddled him.  
  
“I wish nothing more for you, than to learn that there’s nothing that could make us stop loving you, Juicy. My good, sweet boy.”  
“Still naughty enough for a spanking though…”  
  
Papi chuckled at that and very gently bit Juice’s neck.  
  
“Trust me, baby boy, I’m so glad you are.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, just... read the tags unless you want a kind of surprise. If you like surprises, don't read the tags^^ Oh, and remember: key word is consensual.

Juice had never quite found a comparison for the feeling. It was fear and shame, but only a shade of it, balancing so precisly on the egde between bliss and devestation, naming it was close to impossible. The need was the most reckognizable part of it, this crazy wish to take the stinging pain and absolute humiliation, freely putting himself in a position to shatter his pride. The choise to feel powerless and being punished for sins he’d freely committed. Things he’d freely chosen to consider as naughty.  
  
Daddy had entered the room now and, as always, he first kissed Papi, showing his adoration for his submissive husband and the versatile person in the room. The order of things was calming, despite Juice’s anticipation and worry. It was always the same ritual, the only difference now was that extra pillow next to Papi and the fact that both daddies were present.  
  
Daddy held out his hands for Juice to take.  
  
“Ye know wha’s goin’ to happen, boy?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Unbutton yer pants.”  
  
Juice’s face was already heating as he obeyed, trying not to fumble with the belt as he dropped his jeans. He was half-hard, which added to the humiliation enough that he almost turned away, causing Daddy to take his wrist and simply turn him back.  
  
“Look at me, Juice.”  
  
His heart was beating too fast, he felt alert and on display and stuck in that bad head space Daddy had mentioned. Meeting Daddy’s gaze was so hard, Juice barely managed it. This was bad, not the spanking it iself, God no, but this fear of humiliation that just seemed impossible to overcome this time. Juice shivered and looked away.  
  
“So-sorry, Daddy. I… I’m trying, but…”  
“I know, Juicy.”  
  
Daddy’s voice was so calm and steady and Juice swallowed, forcing himself to look at him again and then, the man didn’t quite smile, but he looked... nice? Friendly? Safe.  
  
“Over my lap, boy.”  
  
Juice took a deep breath and straightened, somehow feeling a sudden urge to face it with a slightly higher head and bent over Daddy’s knee, placing his head on the pillow in Papi’s lap. Daddy let him adjust to a steady position and then he smoothly pushed Juice’s boxers down.  
  
Much like every other first step of different kinds from the world outside this safe space, the first blow was always the worst. Daddy’s hand landed with a swift and sharp slap right onto his ass, hard enough to sting properly, but not wreck him and Juice managed to not writhe but stay still, only grasping for the pillow and Papi’s hands.  
  
Daddy never spoke while spanking him, wanting his boy to remain focused and stay in the moment. Accepting what was coming, trusting Daddy to know what he needed, how to give it to him and how much. Juice buried his face in the pillow, not to choke any sounds, but to keep steady. Papi held him too, letting him know he was there with him, not leaving him alone with his head and when the blows definitely had come to a point where Juice knew his ass was close to a properly red shade, Daddy stopped, caressed his ass for a moment, and then shifted to Papi’s large wooden hairbrush.  
  
He brushed the wood over the red backside to prepare his boy and Juice couldn’t stop himself from begging.  
  
“Daddy, p-please… Not… not the brush… I can’t… can’t handle it today…”  
  
He wasn’t supposed to talk during spankings and absolutely not question Daddy, but something was just so fucked up with his mind today and he tensed again, prepared for a harsh scolding for breaking another rule.  
  
“Juicyboy, breathe. Jus’ take a deep breath, laddie. Daddy an’ Papi got ye.”  
  
No scolding, no hard words. Just the soothing voice of his Daddy, speaking softly to him while Papi scratched his scalp.  
  
“Do ye know why ye’re getting this spanking today, boy?”  
“C-cause I… I’ve been rude an’ forgot to eat an’… An’ I asked t-to be alone with you while… Spoke out of terms, Daddy…”  
  
A sob wrecked his body and Daddy gently rubbed his shoulders, letting his sore buttocks rest for a while.  
  
“Shh, laddie… Ye’re ready to listen to me now?”  
“Y-yes, Daddy.”  
“Good. Now… Aye, ye forgot to eat, but do I usually spank ye for tha’?”  
“N-no, Daddy.”  
“So if ye think about it, is there anything ‘bout tha’, tha’ I’d spank ye for?”  
“Not… calling and tell you, Daddy?”  
“Alright, go on.”  
“I… I didn’t answer properly when you asked about it in the car.”  
“Uh-huh. More?”  
“I tried to… tried to calm Papi when we arrived, was slacking before dinner, didn’t… didn’t eat properly at dinner and… and then I asked Papi to spank me in private. And then… then I…”  
  
He was sobbing a lot now, hickuping even, but Daddy and Papi kept petting him, waiting for him to gather his thoughts and find the right words.  
  
“I asked Papi to hold me, didn’t look you in the eye and… I talked while you spanked me and… begged you not to use the brush… _Oh, God…_ ”  
  
Another sob broke his voice as the burning shame just ran through his body, a feeling which intensified as he realised how hard he was. His cock, properly angled between Daddy’s legs to avoid the wrong kind of friction, was almost painfully swollen and leaking and Daddy now smoothed the wooden brush over his stinging backside.  
  
“Tha’s enough answers for the moment, boy. Now I want ye to just listen, alright?”  
  
Juice nodded, earning another small pet from Papi for obeying. Daddy stilled his hand.  
  
“The reason why I spanked ye with my hand, lil’ one, is because ye didn’t trust Daddy and Papi enough to tell us ye didn’t feel well, which lead ye to break a rule and _disrespecting yerself_ an’ yer body. Ye let both us _an’_ yerself down, Juice.”  
  
Juice was crying for real now. He knew Daddy could feel his hard-on, knew that Papi didn’t even have to peek but _knew_ his boy’s state simply from the way Juice fought not to squirm. Daddy adjusted him, pulling Juice a little closer to his frame and stroke his hair.  
  
“Ye’re okay, lil’ one?”  
“Y-yeah, I mean… Yes, Daddy.”  
“Good. Ye’ve been tryin’ to maintain control, Juicy, despite knowing so well how bad it is for ye. An’ then ye’ve been throwing yerself right back into tha’ vicious spiral of self-contempt an’ self-pity, thinkin’ ye _don’ deserve_ a good life.”  
  
The feeling of the brush just leaning onto him, made Juice whimper and he braced himself.  
  
“Widen yer legs, boy.”  
  
He knew better not to talk back now and almost eagerly, he spread out, his body finally accepting that he was in the right spot, getting exactly what he needed and now just waiting for his brain to catch up. The familiar sound of the small jar had Juice press his face further into Papi’s comforting arms. Papi didn’t have to use words to communicate with him.  
  
His strong, gentle hands spoke plenty and when Juice felt the item against his rim, the fear disappeared, replaced only with the humiliation he didn’t understand why he wanted, and didn’t want to know. Daddy was careful but firm as he pushed the oil coated, peeled ginger inside Juice’s hole.  
  
“Daddieee!”  
“Be still, lovey an’ squeeze yer buttocks.”  
“It burns! Papiii!”  
“Shh, baby boy… Almost done now, love. Just hold onto Papi, you’re fine…”  
  
Daddy started to spank him again and the intense feelings of good and bad, seemed to break the last dam, releasing all that shame and fear Juice usually kept so tightly locked up. The pain and shame mixed with the relief and before the blows had stopped, Juice couldn’t feel neither pain nor shame anymore, only pleasure as his balls pulled up tight and climax hit him and he came all over Daddy’s legs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Praised be, Papi is a tease^^

“Tha’s it, Juicy… Atta boy,  such a good, sweet lad… _Good boy…_ ”  
  
He only heard the praise vaguely, still floating around in a haze of sensations he couldn’t control or define. Normally, it would’ve given him a panic attack, but not now. Not while laying in Daddy’s arms, panting and crying as he slowly came down from the high. Nothing could surprise, overwhelm or worry him, everything was in order and he was safe.  
  
“Ron, darlin’, could ye get some water?”  
“Of course, love. Should I bring the aloe as well?”  
“Aye, tha’ would be good. Perhaps a damp towel?”  
“Already at it, Filip.”  
  
The soft sound of a kiss, then footsteps and Juice smiled through his tears.  
  
“Daddy…?”  
“Aye, lovey?”  
“Papi… Papi loves you… a lot…”  
“Aye, darling… He does. Yer Daddy is a _very_ lucky man, having a husband as loving and kind as Papi… An’ such a wee, sweet lad as ye… How are ye feelin’, lil’ one?”  
“Sore and… my butthole hurts a lot. Bit sticky too...”  
“Papi’s getting’ water an’ aloe, lovey. Ye just rest.”  
“Daddy? Can… can I ask you something?”  
“Of couse, sweetheart. Anything ye want.”  
“You’re… you’re no longer… disappointed with me?”  
“Not one bit, my lad. Took yer spanking so well, I’ll tell ye. Handled the brush and ginger too, as I knew ye would.”  
“Daddy knows best…”    
“That he does, baby boy.”  
  
Papi was back. He gave Juice a small kiss on the neck before carefully, with Daddy’s assistence, turn their baby boy onto his side. The loss of complete bodycontact with Daddy had Juice whine for a little while, but in the afterglows of a spanking, while he was still tearyeyed and high, that was allowed. It was a sign of letting go, Papi had said, and not disrespectful or inappropriate.  
  
He was put onto his stomach on the bed and together, Papi and Daddy undressed him completely. He was sticky with sweat and cum, ass still throbbing and stinging, and Juice savored the feeling. A small hissed slipped him as Daddy removed the ginger.  
  
“Daddy, it stings terribly...”  
“I know, my love, I know. Just relax, Juicy, I’ll give ye some aloe for it in a sec.”  
“Thank you, Daddy.”  
  
Peeled ginger could sting for a long time and Juice sighed in relief as he felt well-lubed syringe slowly push into his burning hole. Papi started to dab his face now with a cool, wet towel, the man’s black hair falling down over his face and Juice mindlessly reached for it, like a cat would paw a moving object. He was always very clingy after a spanking, but his daddies allowed and even encouraged it.  
  
The dabbing felt so good. He’d need a proper shower or bath later on, but for now, this was all he needed. Daddy and Papi didn’t mind their bedsheet getting all damp and messy. Papi would simply remake the bed later. Clean and fresh sheets for all three of them… Juice smiled as he thought about being snuggled down between his daddies at night.  
  
“What are you thinking about, sweet boy?”  
“Jus’… you an’ Daddy, Papi. Sleepin’ with you…”  
“You’re tired of us already, baby boy? Filip, love, I think our boy wants to be alone.”  
  
Juice tugged at Papi’s hair, not hard, only to hold onto it.  
  
“Daddy, Papi’s teasing me…”  
“Aye, yer Papi’s quite the tease sometimes, lad.”  
  
Papi chuckled and pecked Juice’s nose.  
  
“Fortunately, baby boy, your Daddy is _very_ good at handling teasing after twenty years with me.”  
“Cause he _loves_ you, Papi.”  
“Aye, I do. C’mere, baby.”  
  
Daddy had leaned over to put a hand around Papi’s head, pulling him close. Juice swallowed as he watched Daddy claim what was his, listened to the small moan from Papi as his solid, dominant man kissed him.  
  
Juice loved seeing his daddies kiss and they did it differently. When Papi initiated it, he looked at Daddy as if he was his savior, his anchor that Papi only just had reached, endlessly relieved and happy for reaching his one and only safe shore. Now, that Daddy was the one who did it, Papi just seemed to melt into him as Daddy got that mixture of absolut gratitude for being trusted to love and care for this man, and a possessive glimpse that spoke of how he’d rip anyone to pieces, as well as their friends and families down to the point of erasing their names from history, who dared trying to hurt his gorgeous, happily submissive husband in any way.  
  
It hadn’t always been easy for Daddy and Papi. Times had changed, yes, but Juice knew his daddies had been through a lot of rough times, both before and while they were together. Families who had turned their back on them. Friends and partners who couldn’t accept or respect their needs, especially Papi had been hurt a lot from that. People saying they were his friends, saying that everybody had the right to love and live as it pleased them unless it hurt others, but they wouldn’t trust Papi’s judgement when it came to Daddy.  
  
Now they had turned to Juice again, Daddy nuzzling his neck as Papi finished his dabbing and laid down to face his boy. Juice felt how his daddies wrapped fingers together, resting their swirled hands onto his hip. They were very careful not to touch his red backside or his cock, aware of how easily their boy would get aroused again at this point. It was futile, though, probably because it’s been longer time than usual since their last time and Juice shuddered as he felt himself getting hard.  
  
“Daddy, please…?”  
  
Daddy just kissed his neck and nodded at Papi who got up and opened the drawer in his nightstand. Then he went to the bathroom and Juice felt a throb again as he heard the sound of water. Daddy rocked and shushed him.  
  
“Soon, boy… Such a _good_ lad ye are, tellin’ yer daddies wha’ ye need.”  
  
Of course, the praise didn’t help with that need one bit now and Juice whined. Trying to get unaroused when Daddy spoke like this, in that low, husky voice, wasn’t easy.  
  
“Not fair, Daddy…”  
“I know, lil’ one, I’m sorry. But Papi’s gonnae help ye now.”  
“What are you doing now, Filip?”  
  
Papi was back, frowning a little and Daddy chuckled.  
  
“Nothing, baby, just talking to our lil’ one a bit.”  
  
Juice looked up at his Papi, making his eyes wide and innocent.  
  
“Daddy was _praising_ me, Papi.”  
“ _Filip…_ ”  
  
Juice couldn’t help but give a rightout giggle at Papi scolding Daddy. He rarely witnessed it but when he was lucky enough to do so, it was hilarious. Daddy was in charge, yes, but Papi wasn’t subdued in any sense. The rules and boundaries for how this power balance worked, were in fact very complex and had been set with outmost care after _much_ thinking and talking. _Nothing_ happened in this house that Papi and Daddy weren’t both on board with, but unlike compromising, Papi had given Daddy permission to have the final say in everything, freely giving up his will because he just trusted Daddy so much to take all the right decisions for him. This particular arrangement, how ever, gave Papi room to always speak his mind and even scold at Daddy when he felt that his husband was a bit stupid or just plain silly and teasing.  
  
Juice loved whenever he was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of it. Daddy had an appologetic smile on as he looked at Papi.  
  
“Sorry, baby, I got carried away a little. Easily happened when ye’re a happy Daddy with such a good boy...”  
“Daddy!”  
“Filip!”  
“Alright, alright, I should shot ma gob.”  
  
They all laughed now and Papi shook his head in pretended annoyance. Juice’s giggle, how ever, ended in a hiss as he felt his erection being dipped into the cold water Papi had brought back from the bathroom. It had the desired effect though and Papi quickly dried and put lotion on Juice’s now limp cock before locking the chastity device around it.  
  
He then kissed the tip, giving his own unabashed smile at his husband and baby boy.  
  
“Don’t know about you two, but Papi could _really_ do with a drink right now.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another little glimpse into Daddy's and Papi's highly unusual marriage and how grocery shopping can cause a near heartbreak ;)

Papi never wore jeans and for some reason, that had intrigued Juice far more than the man’s vast amount of tattoos, ridiculously large wardrobe or the countless make-up items among his toiletries. Papi’s wardrobe was meticulously ordered and even Daddy was careful not to mess with it. Daddy’s interest in clothes was close to non-existent and the idea of seeing him in any other kind of pants than jeans or, if he absolutely _had_ to dress up, a discrete suit, was just strange. Juice quite liked that, how his daddies didn’t seem to need correct clothing and items to be comfortable in their roles.  
  
He laid all safe and snuggled up on the small kitchen couch, idly sipping on his rum and coke while watching Daddy make two more drinks. Papi was sitting on the kitchen countertop – another thing Juice had been surprised to find out was allowed – and let his long legs sweep across the side. His daddies had their own pretty complicated drinking ritual and would never accept an offer from others either. When Juice had been to clubs and bars with them on a few occasions, it had been pretty funny, watching Papi refuse one drink after another from strangers looking for a lay, and how the attention seemed to be far more annoying for him, than for Daddy.  
  
The first time he saw it happened, it was more distressful than funny, though. In Juice’s still BDSM inexperienced mind, it had almost been a given that since Daddy was the top, he’d be getting jealous and angry about others flirting with his husband. But Daddy didn’t care about others, only about how they affected Papi, and would simply turn his attention back to him, whisper something in his ear and slip a hand down between Papi’s legs, tugging at his groin and Papi bit his lip, gasping a little and received a soft kiss that wiped all the worry away. When the next hopeful man came to try and flirt, Papi simply leaned into Daddy’s chest, literally turning away and let Daddy just wave the hopeful one off, without a word. A little later, when Papi had been soothed, he had his teasing smile back on and gladly accepted an absinthe from Daddy, even blushing a little as he received it.  
  
Daddy only ever let Papi serve him things at home, but not drinks. Food, beer and non-alcoholic beverages, yes, alcoholic drinks, no. Drinks were Daddy’s area. In the same way, it was completely out of the question for Daddy to serve Papi food. Cook, yes, serve, no. Clear the table was perfecly fine. Grocery shopping or doing the laundry? Practically an insult.  
  
Breaking those rules had, of course, a little bit different consequences. Papi breaking a rule meant a pretty hard spanking and tell off that left him in tears until Daddy gave his forgiveness and cuddled him. If _Daddy_ forgot himself and went grocery shopping or – God forbid – filled the washing machine, he got himself a husband in absolute frazzle, thinking he wasn’t good enough around the house for Daddy. Juice had seen it happen once and he almost shivered at the memory. Papi had been a complete mess and when Juice, who was still in the process of grasping the aspects of his lover’s intriguing relationship, tried to console him by saying “I’m sure Daddy just tried to be nice”, Papi actually started crying.  
  
It had been scary to watch, really, especially when Papi just hurried away to the bedroom and closed the door. Daddy hadn’t followed him, but instead just put in the groceries, while explaining for Juice how important it was for Papi, that Daddy didn’t break or changed rules like that, not even in an attempt to be nice.  
  
“Papi thrives on rules and boundaries, lad. If I start pushing them, even if I do it to help him with something like I thought I was doing today, he’s gonnae feel unloved an’ unappreciated and bloody scared.”  
  
That had seemed extremely weird, because it was obvious to anyone who looked at them, that Daddy loved Papi more than anything in the world, but Juice hadn’t argued, realising this was something he couldn’t – and shouldn’t – try and interfer with, simply because he didn’t understand how some eggs, carrots and minced meat could make Papi react as if his whole world had been smashed to pieces.  
  
Daddy had told him to be a good lad and stay in the kitchen for a while and as Juice did so, he could hear the sound of Daddy spanking Papi behind the closed bedroom door and how Papi cried. It felt wrong, the idea of Papi being punished when it clearly was _Daddy_ who’d broken a rule and Juice found himself getting upset as he waited for his Daddies to come back.  
  
But much to Juice’s surprise, it wasn’t an upset and hurt Papi entering the kitchen a little while later. He’d clearly been crying and looked a little messy, but where there’d been distress and hurt half an hour ago, there was now relaxation, happiness and smiles again. Daddy entered just after and Papi got all hearteyes, to the point where Juice felt he was intruding on his daddie’s privacy. Daddy had broken a rule, yet it was Papi who got spanked and somehow that made him happy again. It was insane, but later on, as he learned more about his lovers, Juice understood better.  
  
When things felt out of order and _Papi_ got in a bad headspace, he desperately needed Daddy to reset the boundaries and a proper spanking usually did the trick. It wasn’t a punishment, it was comfort and love and a way for Daddy to make amends and have Papi feel safe, loved and appreciated again.  
   
Juice’s own backside didn’t feel very appreciated at the moment, physically, but the rest of Juice did, so in a way, he could really understand Papi. He watched Daddy standing with Papi’s legs around him, leaning into his submissive husband’s chest as Papi rested his chin on Daddy’s head. He sipped on his glass of dry, white Chablis wine and gave his baby boy one of his beautiful, unabashed smiles. Papi was, indeed, a very happy man.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little pre-bedtime snuggle with Papi. And, just a little clarifying: since this is both daddy, obedience and humiliation kink, Papi and Daddy may call Juice naughty even if he's not actually doing anything naughty or breaking rules, simply because Juice loves to hear it and his daddies love to indulge their baby boy. When Juice IS naughty for real as in deserving of a punishment, you will know the difference, I promise.
> 
> And thanks for all the comments!!! This is such a rare (and weird!) threesome, I didn't know what kind of response to expect. I'm beyond delighted for the commitment and encouragement I've had from you <3<3<3 Just... THANK YOU!!! 
> 
> Oh, and also: I've not abandoned "The Human Trap" series, at all. I just needed a little bit of a break from it and will start writing again as soon as I'm in the mood.

“How have you been sleeping for the past weeks, Juice?”  
“Okay, Papi.”  
“Okay as in seven hours per night at minimum, or okay as in around five with loads of coffee and sugar to stay awake at work?”  
“The latter, Papi.”  
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, baby boy. And don’t appologize anymore, sweetheart, you’ve already talked to Daddy and had your spanking. Alright?”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
“Good boy.”  
  
Juice all but purred at the praise but now he was apparantly too tired for his cock to react. Thank God. He was laying with his head in Papi’s lap, knees pressed to his chest with his arms around them and a warm blanket tucking him in. He was naked now, save for the chastity device, and he snuggled up closer to Papi.  
  
“Where’s Daddy?”  
“Getting ready for bed, I think.”  
“It’s early.”  
“Yes, but our baby boy is tired.”  
“I’m not.”  
  
Papi smiled, scratching Juice’s neck a little.  
  
“Your eyelids have been fighting gravity for almost an hour, baby boy. Papi is tired too.”  
“I… I’ve looked forward to it… Sleeping here.”  
“So have we, baby boy. Our bed seems a bit too big without you in it.”  
“I’m sleeping with you?”  
“Juice…”  
“Sorry, Papi, I’m just… Some things you do for me are still hard to, I don’t know…”  
“Count on?”  
“Yeah, I guess… I mean, maybe, I don’t really know, Papi.”  
  
Papi leaned down to kiss his cheek, those hazel eyes looking tired but so kind.  
  
“We’ve longed for you ever since the last time you were with us, baby boy.”  
“Missed you too, Papi… Don’ sleep as well without you…”  
“Neither do we without you, sweetheart. Sometimes Daddy and Papi need their daddy time, yes, but we always miss you afterwards. Told you our bed feels a little too big for just two these days.”  
  
Juice mindlessly nuzzled Papi’s cock outside the pants.  
  
“You’re locked up too, Papi?”  
  
Papi chuckled.  
  
“You didn’t notice until now, baby boy? Daddy locked me up this morning.”  
“Why?”  
“Because Papi was in a bad headspace too, darling, and Daddy had to make sure I got out of it.”  
“Did he, Papi? Get you out of it?”  
“Always, baby boy. Always. As you said earlier: Daddy knows best. He locked me up and made sure I was filled.”  
“Papiii… You’re teasing me again…”  
“Oh, I’m just telling my good boy as it is… Tonight, when Daddy unlocks me and pulls the plug out, his cum will be running out.”  
    
Juice swallowed and made a whine because now his cock definitely reacted.  
  
“Are… are you… red?”  
“I certainly _hope_ so, baby boy. Daddy took me over his knee before we went to get you. Got my bottom a really nice shade, I’ve felt it all night.”  
“You’re getting his cock tonight, Papi?”  
“I don’t think so, my little love. Your daddies are tired too and we’re looking forward to just cuddle our good baby boy.”  
“Can… can I look at it, Papi? Your ass… An’ your cock? When Daddy unlocks you?”  
“Now, how’s _that_ gonna help you to stay decent, baby boy?”  
“Never been decent in my entire life, Papi.”  
  
Now Papi laughed and planted at kiss on Juice’s lips.  
  
“And that’s why I’m so happy we’ve secured you, my little love, before you got into worse trouble. I could cry just thinking about it… All them nasty people that could’ve hurt you…”  
“Don’t cry, Papi! I’m fine now, I’ve got you an’ Daddy an’ I’ve never been so happy. You mustn’t cry!”  
“Shh, sweetheart, shh… Don’t get yourself upset for nothing, angel. I’m not gonna cry and I’m not sad. Just so grateful for having you, Juicy. I’m the luckiest Papi in the world. Got myself the best husband and best baby boy I could ever have wished for.”  
“You an’ Daddy… You’re the only ones who… who can handle me, Papi.”  
  
Juice was a bit worried Papi would laugh again, but the man just sighed and stroke Juice’s hair.  
  
“I know the feeling, my angel. In here… we don’t have to wear any masks, Juice. Can be ourselves, all three of us, knowing that we’re loved… every part of us, even when we’re in a bad place in the world, or in our heads…”  
  
Papi leaned down and gave Juice another kiss, this time on his cheek.  
  
“Arms around my neck, baby boy. It’s time for bed and from what I can tell, you’ll get dizzy if you try and stand up now.”  
“Probably… If I didn’t know better, I’d say Daddy spiked my drink with something.”  
  
Papi chuckled and nuzzled Juice’s nose.  
  
“You naughty thing… _I_ happen to know that nothing makes my baby boy sleep so well as a warm meal, a proper spanking and lots of cuddles. Hold on, I’m sure Daddy’s coming to look for us in a minute and we don’t want to make him wait, right?”  
“Never.”  
“That’s my good boy. Lets get going.”


	11. Chapter 11

Papi was right, of course. Juice felt the world spin a bit, just from being lifted. He wasn’t light, really. A quite fit and broad body at 1,80 and to be honest, neither Papi nor Daddy were _that_ much taller and definitely not as beefy. The only woman Juice had been with, who’d been able to carry him, was a bodybuilder. She was nice, they’d liked each other well enough, but it never felt right. Neither of them seemed to fit for each other and they’d split up without any hostility, even kept in touch on occasion. Jasmine had been really happy for Juice, when he finally told her that he’d found someone who could carry him – and more.  
  
“There are my boys… Was wonderin’ where ye were.”  
“Sorry we kept you waiting, Filip. It wasn’t my intention.”  
“It’s alright, darling. I assumed ye two needed some more Papi time.”  
“Thank you, love.”  
  
Papi’s voice never wore a trace of tease whenever he appologised to Daddy. It was soft, respectful and a little meek. It didn’t sound prissily or unnatural either, as if they were playing a game. No, Daddy and Papi didn’t play with the basics of their roles and Juice knew their wedding vows had included “to love, cherish and protect” from Daddy’s part, and “to love, cherish and obey”, from Papi’s.     
  
Now Papi lowered Juice to sit on the bedside and he winced a little at the feeling in his ass. It pulled him out of the dreamy state and had him alert enough to get ready for bed.  
  
“Arms up, baby boy.”  
“Don’t… need help, Papi…”  
  
Papi and Daddy both laughed at that and Daddy leaned down to give Juice a beardy kiss on his forehead.  
  
“Ye’re about as steady as yer Daddy after a dunken roller coaster ride, lil’ one. Don’ make a fuss an’ just let yer Papi help ye, alright.”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Good boy.”  
  
Papi easily pulled the blanket over his head like it was a t-shirt. It had been swirled around Juice and thinking of it, this was probably a better way than standing while trying to unwrap it.  
  
“Papi?”  
“Yes, sweet boy?”  
“I’m… sweaty. Gonna make your bed all… nasty. An’ you’ve already… changed them sheets once…”  
“Don’t you worry about that, baby boy. Papi’s got it all planned. You’re far too tired for a shower now anyway, so I’ll draw you a nice bath tomorrow instead. Lay down, sweetheart.”  
  
Juice obeyed, frowning as he felt something strange with the sheet.  
  
“Papi, wha’s this?”  
“Just a temporary cover to prevent the bed from getting soaked, baby boy. Papi still wants to wash you off a bit, I’ll remove it as soon as I’m done.”  
“Thank you, Papi.”  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
The cool sponge felt so good on Juice’s warm, still sweat-covered body. It had dried now, but the sticky feeling was still there and getting a sponge bath from Papi was just what he needed. When it was done, Papi even helped him brush his teeth a bit and then Daddy took over.  
  
“Ye get ready for bed now, Ron. I’ll take it from here.”  
“Yes, Filip.”  
  
Juice heard Papi leave for his walk in closet. It was very large, with plenty of room not only for his clothes, but for his dresser as well. Sometimes, Juice was allowed in there, watching Papi get ready for the day or night. Daddy, how ever, wasn’t allowed in there unless Papi actually needed his help with something. It was Papi’s own little sanctuary, much as the part of the garage where Daddy’s bike was parked, was Daddy’s. Mostly, Daddy would only ever enter Papi’s closet if Papi needed his assistance with something – or to surprise him with some new jewlery. Or just tell him how beautiful he was.  
  
But he’d always knock first. Privacy, after all, was always important to respect. Daddy used to say that if he didn’t respect his husband’s needs, he wouldn’t be worthy of Papi’s obedience and then what would be the point?  
  
Daddy gently dried Juice now, just dabbing a dry towel all over him and then turn him onto his side to do his back and ass.  
  
“Ye need some more ointment, my boy?”  
“M’okay for now, Daddy. Thank you...”  
“Wha’ ‘bout inside?”  
“Mm… maybe… Not… sure, Daddy…”  
“I’ll get ye some more aloe then, lovey.”  
“Thank you… Daddy…”  
  
Listening to the sounds of his daddies getting ready for bed, almost had Juice purr. His cock twitched a little, futile as it was considering it was not getting anymore release tonight, as Daddy slipped the syringe between his ass cheeks and gave another shot of the aloe. His hole wouldn’t be stinging at all tomorrow. Daddy was pretty careful with that part.  
  
“Better, lovey?”  
“Yes, Daddy. Much better, thank you.”  
“Good. Let me get the sheet off an’ then we’re all set for bed.”  
  
Daddy easily removed the soaked sheet and Juice made a pleased sigh as he felt the clean linen instead. Daddy pulled the cover up and fluffed the pillow before tucking Juice in.  
  
“Ye’re good now, lovey?”  
“Yes, Daddy. Feel so good…”  
“Tha’s all I want for ye, my boy. To feel good… Now, Daddy will need some time alone with Papi before bed, as ye know.”  
“Daddy-Papi time…”  
“Aye, lil’ one. We’ll be back soon, we’d never let our baby boy sleep alone here.”  
“I know, Daddy.”  
“Good. Snuggle in, sweetie, we’ll be with ye soon.”  
“Night, Daddy…”  
“Goodnight, lil’ one.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy/Papi time :)

“Our baby boy went out like a candle, it seems.”  
“That he did. How’s my big lad doin’?”  
“A bit tired, Filip.”  
“Ye’re worried about Juice?”  
“I am.”  
  
Ron was finishing up the livingroom, always needing to make it look neat and clean before he went to bed. Filip knew better than offering assistance, he would only interfer with his husband’s superior organizing skills and instead, he went to the kitchen, making them both a cup of tea, one of the exceptions from the rule of serving non-alcoholic drinks, simply because Americans were generally lousy tea makers and Filip’s husband was no exception.  
  
The cupboard was strictly organized with every little box and jar properly labeled in Ron’s neat handwriting. Coffee, tea and chocolate on one shelf, baking stuff on the next, grains and gruels, nuts, seeds and dried fruit on another. Filip’s husband craved order in everything and after years of futile therapy to get that craving in control, Ron had went from frustrated and miserable to calm and relieved when Filip decided it was better not to try and restrain it so much.  
  
There was love that had written every single label in that cupboard, love and happiness, and nothing made Filip feel better than knowing he had a happy husband.   
  
He put the kettle on and measured up tea from one of the jars in two cups. When Ron came back from the livingroom, immediately leaning into his arms, Filip stroke his back.  
  
“Need to get over my lap right away, lovey?”  
“Yes please, Filip. Think I do.”  
  
Filip then just took his husband’s hand and walked out to the couch. They didn’t have to talk, Ron just needed to follow and by not talking, Filip showed he had control. That he was strong, steady and knew exactly what to do. As Ron kneeled on the floor, Filip went to one of the locked cabinets and opened it. There were a number a various items for this purpose in there, but Filip knew exactly which one to use for each different occasion.  
  
As Juice, Ron needed emotional release right now but since he’d not been disobedient at all, it was very important not to use any of the items connected with punishment. A small bundle of birch twigs were standing in a water-filled vase and Filip took them and returned to the couch.   
  
“Pants down, darlin’.”  
  
Ron was quick, eager to please, and as soon as he was in position, Filip started spanking him without any further talking or lecture. His husband was so beautiful like this, his buttocks still bright pink from this morning and the plug firmly in place.   
  
Filip didn’t spank too hard, just enough to make it sting properly and to evoke Ron’s feeling of being controlled and cared for. Birch twigs were very good for that purpose. He felt his husband tense a bit and Filip stopped a moment to rub his buttocks.  
  
“Let go, my love, I’ve got ye. Need a good weepin’, lovey, so jus’ weep, alright?”   
  
After a little while, as Filip kept tanning that gorgeous arse, his darling man started sobbing and once Filip was sure that Ron cried for real, he stopped. He rearranged them to cuddle his crying husband and smiled as he felt how the tension was already gone, kissing Ron’s forehead.   
  
“So glad ye’re feelin’ better already, darlin’. Wan’ me to take ye righ’away or wait a bit?”  
“Right away, please. Been so hard for a long time now, Filip…”  
“Ye wan’ it slow tonight?”  
“No, please… I need my big alpha male just putting me in place, baby.”  
“An’ he’s right here, darlin’. Givin’ all tha’ ye need. Take off yer clothes and spread a towel out on the floor.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Usually, they didn’t use that term. It didn’t suit them, especially not on daily basis, but every once in a while, usually when he was equally tired and turned on, it would slip Ron’s lips and make Filip purr inside.  
  
Ron quickly got the towel and undressed. Once down on the floor, Filip widened Ron’s legs and started to unlock the chastity device. His husband’s cock was cut and leaking, his tight pants practically soaked and he moaned as Filip released him.  
  
“Be still, lovey.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
The plug was next and Filip couldn’t hold back a groan himself, as his cum started to run down from the puckered hole alongside Ron’s inner thighs. His husband whimpered and Filip took pity of him, quickly unbuttoning his own pants and adjusting to the right position.   
  
He didn’t prepare Ron, neither with words nor movements. He just slicked himself up a bit, using the cum, and pressed himself inside, slow but still in one move, as he knew his beloved wanted and needed. Being taken, filled all the way, without words or warning. For Filip to make him his, claim and mark him, never hesitating or needing to make sure of consent. A trust so remarkable, Filip almost felt weak with adoration.  
  
He leaned over Ron’s back, nibbling on his shoulder as he pulled out slowly only to slam in back hard again, ‘causing the man to pant and gasp.  
  
“ _Oh, baby…_ My man… My big, strong husband…”  
“Only yers, lovey… “  
  
His husband was so hot and since he’d been locked up for the entire day, Filip knew he wouldn’t last long. And neither would he, with the way his beloved felt and sounded and that plump arse so pink and pretty and fucking tight around his cock.   
  
“So tight, Ron… My obedient husband, my good lil’ homemaker, makin’ me so proud an’ happy… Love ye so much, so much… So pretty like this, all pink and puffy…”  
“Baby… m-may I ask for something?”  
“Anything, lovey… Anything… ”  
“It’s about our lil’ one… _Oh!_ ”  
  
Filip made a particularly rough snap with his hips, pounding hard and deep into his husband. Worrying about things, even their baby boy, wasn’t allowed while making love.  
  
“Ye need me to bring the ginger for ye as well, lovey?”  
“N-no, sir. I’m not… worried, only… a little dirty-minded…”  
  
Now Filip chuckled, rewarding Ron with a light nibble at his earlobe.   
  
“Go on then, my spoiled, big lad…”  
  
Ron gasped again, his cock positively dripping on the towel and Filip had to pause a second to not get carried away. It was his responsibility as the head of the household – and both relationships – to make sure his boys got what they needed before he claimed what was his. He was in control, not only of his boys, but of himself.   
  
He rubbed Ron’s neck a bit, patiently waiting for him to speak. His beautiful husband let out a sigh.  
  
“Was thinking, _sir_ … about you fucking our lil’ one… with my cock.”  
  
God, his husband was just too good for him… Filip loved that bright, dirty mind and he grabbed the black hair, pulling him closer.  
  
“Wannae get tha’ gorgeous prick o’ yers wet, lovey?”  
“Y-yes, sir…”  
“But ye wouldn’t be the one fucking him, right?”  
“No, sir. Ah… You would… _Fuck, baby…_ You! _You_ would!”  
“Tha’s right, lovey. Jus’ using my lil’ husband’s big cock to fuck our baby boy with…”   
  
Now he had Ron on the edge, needy and desperate and so completely trusting, Filip decided it was enough. He wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer himself, not after this evening with their baby boy, and he slipped his hands down to Ron’s shaved thighs.  
  
“Not gonnae touch yer cock, lovey. Gonnae make my lil’ husband cum from my cock alone…”  
  
Ron all but sobbed as Filip kept stroking the inside of his legs, the skin so soft and warm under his hands. Then he gently pressed his husband’s head down, arse up and Filip took a moment just to watch how that pliant hole twitched around him. Both his boys had been so good today and it was time to reward the big one.  
  
“Ye may cum whenever, baby. Gonnae take ye so deep, s’gonnae feel so good when I fill tha’ red arse up again…”  
  
The permisson and one rough pounding was all it took. Ron was a writhering wreck of arousal, cum running from him as Filip started stroking his dripping shaft, milking his husband dry all over the towel. Before Ron could thank him, Filip simply forced him down completely, laying spread on his stomach and draped himself all over him, putting that glowing piece of arse firmly in place to take the finishing thrusts. His balls pulled up tight and Filip groaned low and deep, listening to the sobbing gasps beneath him as he filled the needy hole.  
  
“Th-thank you, sir. Sweet Jesus, Filip… _Thank you…_ ”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bath time with Papi :)

Juice woke up slowly. No alarm, no noises, no annoyingly intense dreaming messing with his head to make him feel more tired than when he went to bed. It took a moment before he realised where he was and with a happy sigh, he nuzzled the warm chest closest to him.  
  
He’d been spooned and cradled the whole night, nestled safely between his daddies and he could feel Daddy’s morning wood against his ass, and Papi’s onto his hipbone. Juice’s own cock was still locked up, efficiently preventing _him_ from getting a boner which wasn’t fair. If he knew his daddies, Papi’s nice ass was probably red now and Daddy would’ve fucked it hard last night when Juice was asleep. Those thoughts had him squirm a little and Papi opened his eyes.  
  
“Mornin’, baby boy… You awake already?”  
  
Papi was whispering, not wanting to wake up Daddy, and Juice leaned closer into his neck.  
  
“Gotta pee, Papi. An’ I wan’ you…”  
“Shh, baby boy, shh… Daddy is still asleep, Juice.”  
“Sorry, Papi.”  
  
He whispered too now and got a soothing pet on his shoulders. Papi made a low hum and pulled him into a hug.  
  
“Daddy will need a little more sleep, my little love, so how about I’m drawing you that bath now, getting you all nice and clean before Daddy wakes up?”  
“Yes please, Papi.”  
  
He wouldn’t get off now, not without Daddy present and Juice followed Papi to the bathroom. The man had his bathrobe on, blocking the view and knew exactly how eager his baby boy was to have a peek. Papi turned the water on and Juice swallowed.  
  
“Papi?”  
“Yes, baby boy?”  
“ _Really_ gotta pee…”  
“Then pee, sweetheart. I’ll get you unlocked when you’re done.”  
  
Papi’s voice was firm, meaning there was nothing to discuss. He’d would have to do it while Papi was there and Juice blushed as he went on with his business. At least he didn’t have to face him. When he was done and had flushed, Juice turned around again and let Papi unlock the chastity device.  
  
“No chafing, baby boy?”  
“Nuh-uh, Papi.”  
“Good. Get your cute butt in the tub then.”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
  
The bath was an awesome idea, Juice thought as he sank down in the hot water, only grimazing a little as he felt the sting on his ass. His cock had decided to stay calm though, which was good, especially since Papi was getting undressed. Juice couldn’t help but making huge eyes at the view, as Papi removed his robe and let Juice have a peek.  
  
Papi was so hot, beautiful too and shaved all over, his flaccid cock cut and the man chuckled at Juice’s unabashed gaze.  
  
“You like Papi’s cock, baby boy?”  
“Love it, Papi.”  
  
Papi kissed his hair and entered the tub behind him, grabbing a wash-cloth and a soap.  
  
“That’s enough looking. Lean back, sweetheart.”  
  
Juice let himself sink back onto his Papi, just savoring the feeling of warmth and comfort. From downstairs, he could hear the sound of porcelain and Juice looked back onto his Papi.  
  
“Daddy’s in the kitchen, Papi?”  
“Just setting the table, baby boy.”  
  
He then chuckled and started to wash Juice’s arms.  
  
“You worry too much, Juice. I purposely chose an oven I knew your Daddy wouldn’t have the patience to learn anything but the heating function on. He’s probably back in bed in a minute.”  
“Are you saying that Daddy is stupid, Papi?”  
“Watch your mouth, baby boy. Of course I wouldn’t say that, because that would be a lie.”  
  
Juice got a kiss onto his neck, Papi’s way of assuring him he wasn’t angry with the joke, that he knew more than well that his baby boy was only teasing. He did pinch Juice’s ear though, but not hard, just a reminder that he needed to be respectful.  
  
“Daddy simply has no time to waste on household items, sweetheart. And I don’t want him to get the idea that he needs to take time he doesn’t have, to help Papi with things that Papi doesn’t need any help with.”  
“So you chose one you knew he wouldn’t learn how to use?”  
“I did.”  
“Is… isn’t that… I don’t know… _cheating_ , Papi?”  
  
Papi laughed again, nuzzling Juice’s neck as he kept washing his armpits and chest.  
  
“Well, once every sixth or seventh year or so, I think it’s only healthy to remind ones husband about certain things he might otherwise forget. Now, bend forward, sweet boy. I’ll need to start with breakfast soon and I want my baby boy’s hole all nice and clean for Daddy before I start.”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
“Turn around and get on your knees then, sweetheart. Nice and slow, I don’t want you to slip and hit that pretty little head of yours in the tile.”  
“I’ll be careful, Papi.”  
“Good boy.”  
  
Juice didn’t feel dizzy as he went on his knees, holding onto the sides of the tub. A sign as good as any, that the time he’d spent with his daddies this weekend, already had a good effect on his stress. He obediently rose his ass to give Papi a better access – it was a good thing they had a large tub – and let him wash his hole and puckers, cock and balls meticulously for Daddy. It felt better having Papi doing it, than doing it himself. Not that Juice wasn’t a freak when it came to being clean, because he absolutely was, but when Papi did it, he just knew Daddy would be so pleased.  
  
“There you go, all clean, sweetheart. Just wait and let Papi shower us both a bit, alright?”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
  
A small part of Juice’s mind thought about how absolutely weird this whole procedure was, but there was no shame or worry in it. Just a slightly surprised observation and that didn’t bother him. Papi pulled the tap and started washing Juice’s short, dark hair. Juice would’ve liked to do the same for Papi, but that wasn’t allowed. Papi’s scalp got a bit sore when wet and he prefered to wash it himself.  
  
He finished up by quickly scrubbing Juice’s legs and back before rinsing them both and then he helped him out of the tub.  
  
“Steady on, baby boy.”  
“S’it really healthy being this dizzy in the morning, Papi?”  
“That’s what I’m asking myself, Juice. But no obsessing or over-thinking now, boy. I’ll talk to your Daddy after breakfast. You’re not feeling unwell, are you?”  
“Not at all, Papi. Jus’ a bit unsteady. Hungry too.”  
“Well, that’s good. You wanna cuddle with Daddy while I make breakfast?”  
“Yes, please.”  
“Lets get you dry then, sunshine.”  
  
Getting dried like a child, old or sick person felt suspiciously good while sitting on Papi’s lap and having him rub the soft towel all over him. Juice reacted like a cat getting petted, simply leaning into every touch. As he nuzzled the crook of Papi’s neck, he saw the scars on the man’s back and couldn’t help but brushing over them with his fingers.  
  
“Who hurt you, Papi?”  
“You shouldn’t think about that, baby boy. You know Daddy will decide if and when I can tell.”  
“Was it a long time ago?”  
  
He couldn’t really stop the question, mostly because it made him sad knowing that someone had dared to hurt Papi. Papi sighed a little.  
  
“Well… Yes. Before I married Daddy. He got very upset when he found out that… someone had hurt Papi. But now it’s just scars, baby boy. They havent hurt for a very long time and since Daddy married me, no one has dared hurting me again. But… that’s all I’m gonna say, my little love and you can’t ask Daddy about it either, okay?”  
“Okay, Papi. I wont.”  
“Good boy. And you never ever have to worry about Papi’s dumb old scars, alright? Daddy handled it a long time ago and Papi was healed.”  
  
He took Juice’s hand and put it onto his own arm.  
  
“Here.”  
  
Then he moved it to his head.  
  
“Here.”  
  
He finished by pressing the palm at his heart.  
  
“And here.”  
  
Papi brushed Juice’s cheek and gave him that bright, teasing smile again, before kissing his crown.  
  
“You go cuddle with Daddy, sweet boy, and let your old Papi make his boys some breakfast.”  
“Okay, Papi. Love you.”  
“Love you too, baby boy.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little naked cuddles, a sliver of insecurity, the smell of bacon and why Juice's hardworking biker Daddy has no say in menus.

“Daddy?”  
“Mhm…?”  
“Daddy?”  
“Aye…?”  
“Papi’s making breakfast.”  
“An’ ye’re not making him company?”  
“He told me to give you a cuddle, Daddy. You… you wanna cuddle with me, Daddy?”  
  
Daddy, who’d squinted at him from the pillow, grabbed Juice’s wrist and simply pulled him down, hugging him while placing kisses all over him and Juice squeaked.  
  
“Daddy, I’m ticklish!”  
“An’ naked.”  
“Had a bath, Daddy. Papi an’ me.”  
“Ye did? An’ he allowed ye to go back to bed?”  
“He did, Daddy.”  
  
Daddy looked a little tired and a small shiver ran through Juice’s body.  
  
“I mean… if… if you _wanna_ , Daddy.”  
“Oh, jus’ c’mere, laddie!”  
  
Juice huffed a little as Daddy pulled the cover over him.  
  
“Daddy is teasing Juice. Juice’s gonna tell Papi.”  
  
Degrading to that kind of children’s language wasn’t at all usual and Juice didn’t even know why he did it, just that he’d felt uncomfortable for the split of a second when Daddy teased him. It made him feel vulnerable, unsure of his place and the boundaries and Daddy finally realised that.  
  
He rocked Juice in his arms, placing kisses onto his neck.  
  
“I’m sorry, lil’ one. Daddy shouldn’t have teased his Juicyboy like that. Yer Daddy is wee bit silly sometimes. Papi says that too. Of course I wannae cuddle with my wee laddie. Ye smell so good.”  
“Papi washed Juice, Daddy.”  
“So I can tell. An’ he didn’t lock ye up afterwards.”  
“Nuh-uh.”  
“Maybe we’ll have to remedy that.”  
  
Daddy reached down to cup Juice’s cock and Juice whined.  
  
“P-please, Daddy, not yet. Wanna be naked.”  
  
Daddy chuckled and let his hand stay between Juice’s legs.  
  
“I don’t think yer Papi will allow that, laddie. He’s pretty firm on tha’ one. No naked butts at the brekkie table. Or any table, for tha’ matter. An’ speaking of brekkie tables… I think I’m smelling coffee and bacon.”  
  
Now Juice made saucers wide eyes.  
  
“Papi lets you have _bacon_ , Daddy?”  
“Only on rare, special occasions, lovey.”  
“But… your birthday isn’t until November, Daddy. And your wedding day’s in May.”  
“Aye, but it was a whole month since our lil’ one spent a weekend with his daddies an’ I think yer Papi wants to spoil us a little extra.”  
“Oh.”  
  
Ruling over the kitchen meant ruling over what Daddy ate and when Daddy came back from his annual health check a few weeks ago with raised cholesterol levels, Papi had went full-on food dictator and refused to make Daddy full Englishs anymore. That’s how Juice learned that head of the household absolutely didn’t mean head of the menu and that Daddy would eat whatever Papi decided to cook or go hungry, end of discussion.  
  
Daddy smiled and took his hand from it’s teasing place, giving Juice a little peck on the cheek.  
  
“If I know yer Papi right, he’s gonnae come for us in about… seven an’ a half minutes.”  
  
He nodded at the alarm clock and Juice giggled. Papi had a sixth sence of timing and always served breakfast exactly 9.15 on weekends. Daddy gave Juice a little pat on the rump.  
  
“We better get dressed, little darlin’. Don’ wannae make Papi wait for us, right?”  
“Nu-uh.”  
“Ye need a lil’ more ointment on yer butt?”  
“Yes, please, Daddy.”  
“Alright then. Lets get going.”  
  
Daddy was always fast with his morning routine on the weekends, taking a very quick shower and throw some old favourite jeans and a tanktop on. He worked long days as a car and biker mechanic on a very popular shop who’d earned it’s reputation for a major part due to Daddy’s skills and he used to say that the worst thing about getting popular among middle-class couples with kids and midlife crises, was that it forced him and his co-workers to treat idiots with respect.  
  
On the weekends, he just wanted to have a long, relaxing breakfast with his husband, but out of respect for Daddy, he’d always have a shower and get dressed first. Juice wasn’t really sure why Papi had such an issue about eating in a robe, but since Daddy didn’t bother to explain, Juice figured it was just something to accept and move on. And if Juice was honest, it was kinda nice having breakfast like a proper meal and not, as he used to, grab something on the go.  
  
Before meeting Papi and Daddy, it had been years since Juice had experienced anything close to a healthy, balanced breakfast routine. At first, he’d thought Papi was a little too fussy about it, but as time went on, Juice realised he appreciated it – and missed it while he was home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Papi's mind walks down memory lane during breakfast, how to not deal with food issues and when Daddy actually doesn't know best...

“Thank ye, darlin’. Smells really nice.”  
  
His husband patted his hand, even smiling despite he hadn’t had his coffee yet. Ron knew that the guys at Filip’s work often joked about making the missus pissed for not noticing domestic efforts like new curtains or newly vaccumed floors, while adding that Chibs, as they called Filip, was lucky that he had a man and didn’t have to worry about leaving dirty socks and shorts on the floor or being interrupted while watching sports.  
  
When hearing such things, Filip usually made a seemingly joking shudder, saying “ye lads have no idea how much ma man hates sports”, while trying to recall if he’d actually left dirty laundry on the floor or not given Ron a proper goodbye kiss that morning. Things like that could mess with Filip’s mind and Ron had developed a sixth sense for that over the years.  
  
Assuring his loving husband how much he’d longed for him, every single night as he came home from work, wasn’t a duty to Ron. He was always genuinly happy to see his man after a long day. And every little piece of work around house, be it a nice dinner, clean and folded laundry or a well-trimmed rose bush, Filip would notice and thank him for. In fact, their relationship had started with that. A simple thank you.  
  
When Ron had served Filip, he put down a plate for his baby boy.  
  
“Thank you, Papi.”  
  
Juice had no idea how absolutely breathtaking his smile could be, Ron thought as he poured the coffee and then sat down himself. His boy was wearing a pair of loose fitting jeans and honestly, Ron was impressed that he’d not asked for lenience on the rule about being dressed at the table, considering his very sore hide. The pad Ron discretely had laid on his baby boy’s chair, probably helped, but still. Juice was such a _good_ and well-behaved boy.  
  
“Did Daddy lock you up, baby boy?”  
  
His boy just shook his head, looking at his Daddy and Filip put his coffee down, turning to Ron.  
  
“Thought it best to wait until after brekkie. Looked a wee bit red.”  
“I’ll have a look later then, love.”  
“M’ fine, Papi.”  
“I’m sure you are, baby boy, but nevertheless, Papi wants to check for himself.”  
  
Juice hesitated a moment, clearly struggling the learned habit of denying himself help out of fear for being an inconvenience, but then he nodded.  
  
“Okay, Papi.”  
  
His boy returned to his food, sitting properly on his chair and eating with nice manners. Food was a struggle to him, the boy easily lost his appetite, forgot to eat or went on the other extreme of obsessing over his food and what it contained, restraining himself or started comfort eating. Sometimes, much to Ron’s and especially Filip’s horror, he’d even binged and purged when he was really stressed out.  
  
It had been a while, though, thank God. Forgetting to eat was one thing, using it to handle anxiety or punish himself, a whole other. On that first occasion, Filip had been so upset, it had been near an end for their new relationship. Ron had listened to Juice’s heart-wrenching sobs and the loud sound of Filip’s lexan paddle for a good while before his strict husband decided it was enough and went to cuddle and soothe the crying boy. No ginger that time, though, for which Ron was very relieved, and Juice had been a mess of tears and shudders once Filip opened the door and let Ron in. It took a while, but eventually, Juice had calmed down, relaxed entirely and went from ashamed, tense and devestated, to a clingy and needy, shamelessly horny little creature, too hard, wet and sore to able to tease or control himself one bit. A couple of strokes from Papi’s hand and it was done.  
  
Still, Ron thought it was a far too hard punishment and pretending he was okay with is, was out of the question. Once Juice was tucked into bed and was okay to be alone for a little while, Ron had demanded – yes, _demanded_ – a word in private with his husband, giving him an anything but meek lecture on why a lexan paddle _never_ was the answer to dealing with eating problems and how a bruised butt certainly wouldn’t make mealtimes any easier for their baby boy.  
  
Instead of giving _Ron_ a round over his lap for being disrespectful, Filip had went for a walk and when he came back, there was nothing but regret and pain in his eyes. While comforting Juice was Ron’s priority, he immediately reckognized a deeply regretful Filip when he saw one, and there’d been no spanking for Ron, but a dominant man crying in his lap, thanking his submissive husband for the wise words and guidance he should’ve listened to in the first place. When Filip was finished crying, kissing and thanking Ron for the well-earned scolding, he’d gone to Juice.  
  
It had been hard to watch from the doorway how Filip very slowly and with his most soothing voice, approached his hurt baby boy while admitting he’d done wrong, that he’d not been a good Daddy at all, impatient and allowing his emotions to be louder than reason.  
  
_I was a very, very bad listener, lil’ one. In fact, Daddy didn’t listen at all, Juicy. I got scared an’ angry an’ didn’t think one bit ‘bout how ye felt, only how upsetting it was for me tha’ ye’d hurt yerself, which I’m so ashamed of._  
  
After about half an hour of patient, humble and deeply apologetic talking from Filip, Juice had finally peeked up from the covers and allowed contact. Reparing that trust had taken a while, although not as long as Ron thought his husband deserved. When Juice had went back home again, Ron had cooked all Filip’s most hated dishes for two weeks, refused date nights and sex wasn’t even to think about. From Ron’s point of view, Filip had misused his power, betrayed their boy’s trust and also been lacking in respect for Ron.  
  
Fortunately for Filip, both his boys were forgiving and Ron’s husband had spent a long time to earn their full trust and respect again. After about one and a half week, Ron had found a stack of books on coping with stress, eating disorders and anger management, hidden under the tanktops in his husband’s closet and there and then, he’d forgiven Filip. He didn’t actually let him _know_ it for another day, but Ron figured his husband needed to really think about what he’d done.  
  
Juice, who’d been home as usual for a couple of weeks, was meeting them on a Friday for their weekend. Ron and Filip had both worried that their boy might feel bad and not actually wanting to see them – which would’ve been completely natural – but to their great surprise, Juice had thrown himself into Filip’s arms, sobbing and stuttering and begging his Daddy not to send him away. It had been one of their best weekends together. No sex and absolutely no spankings, but just lots and lots of cuddles, comfort and constant reassuring of how much they loved their baby boy.  
  
This morning, Juice was only as sore as he _wanted_ to be and Ron smiled as he watched how Filip didn’t reprimand their baby boy for pulling his knees up to his chest in that old self-comforting position he sometimes did without realising. Juice’s head was apparantly running a little wild again, but these days Filip knew when his lil’ one couldn’t help it.  
  
Over the brim of his coffee cup, Ron saw how Filip very gently took Juice’s hand and then his fork, feeding him with a warm, loving smile. And then, between a mouthful of scrambled eggs and a sip of coffee, their boy’s breathtakingly smile was there again, that little ray of sunshine who would make Ron’s chest just feel too fucking small to carry all the love without bursting.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another little trip down memory lane, with Juice.

“What did ye do this week, lad?”  
“Worked, Daddy. Office, the garage… Went to the gym. Usual stuff. Already told you, right?”  
“Relax, darlin’, this isn’t a confession or an interrogation.”  
  
Daddy ran a hand up and down his arm. Juice was laying in his lap by the telly, as they watched a soccer game, or rather had it as a background sound. Papi, who didn’t want any help clearing the table today, had shooed his boys off to the livingroom and Juice was curled up to a ball, resting his head onto Daddy.  
  
“Don’ really know… Nothing special happened, Daddy.”  
“Anything interesting at work?”  
“No… not really. Same as usual, Daddy. Lots of costumers, had to do some overtime. Boss was kinda assholish.”  
“Yeah? Wha’ did he do?”  
“Yelling a lot. Not at me, well, only once, but he’s… I donno, he’s been in a pretty foul mood.”  
“Takin’ it out on everyone else, huh?”  
“Pretty much, yeah. So it’s… business as usual, I guess. But I’m having movie night with Elle next Sunday.”  
“Tha’s good. The movie night, not yer assholish boss. How ‘bout evenings and nights in general?”  
  
Juice swallowed.  
  
“Missed you and Papi, Daddy. I don’t really sleep as… well on my own. Takes a long time to wind down an’… an’ I wake up a little early.”  
“More tired when ye rise than when ye went to bed, huh?”  
“Sometimes, yeah.”  
“An’ then ye get too tired to eat an’ it creates a vicious circle.”  
  
Juice made wide eyes at his Daddy, a little anxious, but Daddy just stroke his hair and kissed his forehead and Juice instinctively curled further, making himself smaller and hid his face. Daddy sighed.  
  
“My sweet, lil’ lad… Whatever made ye so skittish…?”  
  
Thirty years of constantly hearing that you’re trash. Stupid, ugly, ungrateful. Too weak, too cocky, too shy, too greedy. Only ever occasional resting places, but never a steady one with his name. The one constant thing was shame and loneliness. The world isn’t made for soft boys in grown men’s bodies.They break and when they do, no one will pick up the pieces.  
  
Because men who can’t be strong, who can’t defend themselves, are trash. Juice turned around, away from the telly and into Daddy’s hipbone.  
  
“Hey, Juicyboy? Wha’s the matter, darlin’?”  
  
Daddy sounded worried but calm too, soothing and Juice buried his face onto his thigh.  
  
“Can you just please… hold me, Daddy? An’… An’ I don’ need no… spanking now.”  
“Jesus Christ, lad… C’mere, lil’ one. Come an’ hold onto Daddy, aye? There we go… _Of course_ I aint gonnae spank ye now, lovey. Where did ye get such an idea from?”  
“Not… doing anything _right_ these days, Daddy.”  
“Tha’s not true an’ ye know tha’, Juice.”  
“See? Can’t even… _describe_ my shit right. I’m a fucking mess, Daddy.”  
“Tha’s how ye feel, lovey? Like a mess?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Well… Ye’re _our_ lil’ mess, sweetheart. Mine an’ Papi’s. An’ we love _every lil’ piece_ o’ ye, Juicy. I thank God every day for tha’ pished an’ angry lil’ muppet who tol’ me to go home an’ fuck ma grammaw while mistakin’ my husband’s boots for a puke bucket.”  
  
Juice huffed a bit through his tears and Daddy chuckled, still petting Juice’s head and shoulders.  
  
“Jesus Christ, laddie, I’m still surprised _he_ didn’t spank ye.”  
“ _You_ certainly did, Daddy.”  
“That I did, lovey.”  
“Couldn’t sit for days.”  
“Aye, an’ then ye came back with flowers and shoe shine...”  
“Surprised you there, Daddy.”  
“Surprised? Ye shocked me an’ Papi both. In the best o’ ways.”  
  
Daddy now scratched Juice’s scalp and neck, softly as Juice sobbed a little onto the fabrics of his jeans.  
   
“Was so sure you’d call the cops on me, Daddy. But you didn’t.”  
  
Daddy smiled. Juice couldn’t see it, but he still knew somehow.  
  
”Pretty lads who wake up in my husband’s favourite roses and then throws up all over my husband’s new boots, ruining our Sunday morning, require a different treatment.”  
“You mean it’s happened before?”  
“Not once, lil’ one. An’ if another pretty lad makes tha mistake, I’ll just call the cops on him this time.”  
  
Now he chuckled.  
  
“Mary, Mother o’ Christ, Juice… I’ve had some different kind o’ reactions to tha’ treatment, an’ a lot of pathetic excuses for apologies an’ threts over the years from lads… But ye… Ye showed up again, with a bloody _Doris Day_ plant in a pot.”  
  
Juice smiled too, searching for Daddy’s hand, just needing something to hold onto again.  
  
“You do know I did spy a bit on your garden and took a picture before I actually bought those roses, right Daddy?”  
“Of course.”  
“That’s kinda creepy, I guess… But I just felt so bed for Papi, you know. I’d never seen a man… react like that over roses… or anything, really.”  
“Papi is an emotional man, Juicyboy, an’ I planted them roses for him when we moved in. An’ now he’s got more of them.”  
“I’d never bought that exact kind if I’d known it was…”  
“Special to us?”  
“Yeah…”  
  
Daddy bent down and placed a soft kiss on his lips.  
  
“Ye know, Juicy… I don’ think anyone’s ever been as happy as we were, for having a drunken muppet ruining our shoes an’ roses on a Sunday morning. Eventually. An’ yer Papi’s Doris Days only got more special to both of us, my wee, messy lil’ pup…”  
  
His eyes were so warm and kind, dark and just _seeing._ Seeing something more than the idiot who'd almost ruined his husband’s precious flowerbeds six months ago. Juice didn’t really know what and now that they’d talked, he still felt like a mess, but as Daddy said, he was his and Papi’s. In a strange way, he’d been theirs from the moment he dropped his jeans with shaky fingers, bending over the side of the couch in the strange couple’s livingroom and heard that weirdly exotic, Scottish voice:  
  
_Boxers too, laddie. We spank bare bottoms in this house. Unless ye want me to call the cops instead. Ye still have tha’ choice, of course.  
  
_ He had, yes, and any sensible person would’ve taken the cops, knowing that it would never end up with anything more than a fine, but Juice had immediately lowered his boxers and taken twenty hard strikes from the man’s wooden paddle, while the rose loving husband watched. It hurt worse than he’d anticipated, clenching his cheeks to try and ease the sting, but he’d also remained firmly in place, as if although he instinctively wanted it to stop and had a hard time keeping his feet from kicking too much, still felt a need to just _take it_.  
  
Afterwards, he’d been teary-eyed and snotty, not _crying_ really, but still visibly effected by the punishment. He’d pulled his shorts and pants up almost immediately, despite the burn, before looking at the men he now hoped weren’t so angry with him. He’d expected to be kicked out, ridiculed for sure, and maybe even having the cops called on him anyway. He’d looked at the rose loving man, forcing himself to actually _face_ him, despite the devestating shame he felt for everything, even through the midst of a well-earned hangover, and swallowed:  
  
_I’m really, really sorry about your shoes and roses, sir._ _Just… tell me what I owe you._  
  
The blackhaired man who’s roses and shoes Juice had almost ruined, didn’t react with scorn or annoyance, but to Juice’s complete surprise, instead pulled him into a hug. He’d rubbed his back a bit and then pushed him away, but still kept his hands onto Juice’s shoulders, looking at him with a surprised, curious and slightly teasing, but not at all mean expression.  
  
_What’s your name again, boy?  
  
__Juice, sir. Juice Ortiz._  
  
_Well, Juice Ortiz… I’m Ron Tully and the one your butt should be thanking, is my husband Filip Telford. Usually when someone disturbes our peace on a Sunday morning, we simply can’t wait to slam the door in his face, but since you seem to be a pretty responsible boy, and also happens to have a rather cute face, I happen to have a fresh pot of coffee ready and you really look like you could use something for that hangover…_  
  
Yes, the memory was a sweet one and when Juice wasn’t trapped in a bad train of thoughts, he’d often return to his and his daddies’ nothing less than insane start of their relationship. He was still sore from the other night and wearing boxers and pants wasn’t comfortable at all.  
  
“Daddy?”  
“Aye, darlin’?”  
”May I, please, scoot my pants down a bit…? ’S itching.”  
”Oh, I’m sorry, laddie. Completely forgot to ask if ye needed some more ointment, tha’ was irresponsible of me. Lift yer head, darlin’, I’ll be right back.”  
  
While Daddy fetched the ointment, Juice unbuttoned his pants and lowered them and his boxers just below his buttocks. It still hurt, but Juice loved the sting and just the mere feeling of Daddy and Papi touching it in pretty much any way possible.  
  
He’d only come once and nothing but ginger had entered his ass, but Juice knew he had to be patient. Daddy rubbed the ointment over his sore skin, which of course made Juice’s cock twitch.  
  
“Daddy, I’m gonna get hard again an’ I’m not locked up.”  
“Aye, but ye’ve been a good boy, Juice, behaving so well all morning, I think ye’ve earned some leisure time. An’ yer pretty cock is a far better view, than soccer.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always respect the head of the household. Always.

“Come an’ sit down for a while, lovey.”  
“Mm… what?”  
“Ron…”  
“I need to finish this before lunch.”  
“ _Excuse me?_ ”  
”God, where’s my head… Yes, _sir_.”  
  
Papi immediately put down his soaped water, removed his gloves and folded them over the bucket. Then he came to sit at Daddy’s feet, not kneeling but simply sitting down with crossed legs and hands onto his lap. He didn’t really lower his head either, only a very slight bow, his cheeks flushed in embarressment, but his voice wasn’t anxious, only calm and very respectful, when he spoke.  
  
“I did not mean to ignore or talk rudely to you, Filip. It was very disrespectful of me.”  
“Aye, Ron, it was.”  
“I’m deeply sorry, Filip, I got cought in my chores, but I will try and better myself and I ask you for forgiveness.”  
“I know ye will, my darling. Ye always do an’ ye’re _always_ forgiven. Come an’ give yer old man a kiss.”  
  
Daddy certainly didn’t have to say that twice and Juice watched in fascination as Papi practically fell into his husband’s forgiving arms, kissing him slowly, but still in an almost desperate manner. He’d seen it before, of course, but it was still intriguing and the slight feeling of jealousy very shortlived. Although Daddy would never punish Papi in front of their boy, verbal corrections were something else and delivered immediately.  
  
By the way his daddies kissed, Juice was fairly sure Papi wouldn’t be spanked or even further reprimanded for this. From his spot in Daddy’s lap, Juice watched as Papi’s stress seemed to melt away by the second as Daddy kissed him. When they finally separated, Daddy stroke Papi’s hair.  
  
“I’d like to ask my hard-working lil’ homemaker what he’s got planned for lunch today.”  
“BLT:s, gazpacho and fruit salad.”  
  
For a split of a moment, Papi looked worried again and Daddy gave him one of his calming smiles.  
  
“Tha’ sounds lovely, darlin’. An’ suiting for my little proposal.”  
  
When Papi still looked kinda anxious, Daddy shook his head.  
  
“This is only a _proposal_ , lovey. I’m not tryin’ to intervene with yer plans an’ ye always have final say in meals, as ye’ve had for the last twenty years, _ma’m_.”  
  
Papi frowned at the joke and crossed his arms, almost challenging.  
  
“Alright, old man. What’s your proposal?”  
“C’mere.”  
  
Papi leaned closer and Daddy whispered something Juice couldn’t hear, but whatever it was, it made all signs of worry disappear from Papi’s face in a heartbeat and that teasing, mesmerizing smile that made his eyes glitter, was back.  
  
_God_ , Papi was hot. Daddy too, of course, and Juice’s cock that had been kind enough to remain flaccid for a while, reacted on spot. Watching and hearing Papi obey, ask for forgiveness and lean into Daddy like that, being forgiven, made it very difficult to be a good boy and not do anything naughty. Figuring out all the little nuances of how and where exactly that fine line between allowed, even encouraged teasing from Papi, and rudeness had been drawn, was a fucking mystery to Juice sometimes. Not to mention a huge turn-on.  
  
Suddenly, Juice realised that Daddy had known from the very moment he saw Papi too caught up in his cleaning routine and by interrupting like this, making it clear that Papi exhausting himself, was as unacceptable as impertinence and disobedience, he’d both given him a well-earned reprimand as well as pulling him out of a potentially stressful and unhealthy eagerness to try and be the perfect homemaker.  
  
No matter the power Papi had over the household chores, Daddy was always entitled to his immediate attention whenever he called on him. He demanded a respect he’d actually _earned_ , that Papi was completely willing to give and to Juice, who’d only ever connected respect with fear and anger, anxiety and humiliation in the past, it was fucking ecstacy to watch.  
  
Daddy now turned to Juice, kissing his cheek and then he looked back at Papi.  
  
“Before we go on with yer proposal, I think our lil’ one needs a hand from his Papi, lovey.”  
“It certainly looks like it, Filip.”  
“Get to it, baby.”  
  
Juice made huge eyes, looking between his Daddies.  
  
“Wha’s happening…? Daddy?”  
”Shh, lil’ one. Jus’ close yer eyes an’ trust Daddy, alright.”  
  
Juice obeyed, still a bit apprehensive, but Daddy petted his chest and belly and a moment later, Juice let out a shrieking mewl as Papi’s soft hand closed around the ignored, almost painfully swollen cock, giving his baby boy relief.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whole lotta backstory and Doris Day roses.

On the contrary to popular beliefs, Filip wasn’t a tyrant or some kind of roaring general, not in the slightest, and meeting Ron had been nothing less than a wee shock to the Scot. It happened on a Wednesday in April, when a 25 year old Filip was only two hours away from finishing a graveyard voluntary shift at the hospital.  
  
There’d been a lot of patients that night and everyone in the staff was tired and stressed when they finally had a little breather at around five in the morning. As Filip was sipping on a much needed cup of horrible coffee with a collegue, the receptionist called for him, muttering really about a _scarecrow and his friend, probably provoking the wrong people and now wanting some oxys._ In other words, someone just wasting precious tax money, meaning the volunteer would do until a nurse had time.  
  
Filip hadn’t exactly rolled his eyes, but he didn’t feel particulalry enthusiastic, neither did he appreciate people critizising others looks, as he left his cup and went out to the examination room, expecting some wasted muppet smelling from too many shots and body fluids. What he hadn’t expected, was a six foot one goth rocker with long, dyed hair and two blackeyes, five broken fingers and his irritated, burly company, rolling eyes at how fucking long he had to wait just because he had a _stupid fucking_ _friend._  
  
The friend in question had winced at the other man’s irritation and then visibly tensed as Filip asked him to step outside and – like a normal bloody person – respect the patient’s privacy, friend or not. The tall, goth looking guy, seemed surprised, relieved and also a bit worried when his “friend” backed out.  
  
Every touch, every move from Filip made the poor bastard wince and Filip had a hard time keeping his anger in check. He knew exactly what this was about.  
  
“Wha’s yer name, lad?”  
“Ron.”  
”Ron… Well, I’m Filip, a volunteer here tonight. Wha’s happened to ye?”  
”Got into a fight.”  
”Uh-huh. Or hit a wall, maybe?”  
”Got into a fight… with a wall.”  
”Tha’ wall by any chance got something like… two legs an’ ten knuckles?”  
”You must have some strange fucking walls in Ireland.”  
”Scotland.”  
“Huh?”  
“I’m Scottish, lad, not Irish.”  
”Same shit, different name, _nurse._ Can you help me or not? Hurts like a bitch.”  
  
Nothing seemed to be broken, at least nothing a busy E.R. could help with except for some painkillers and a small bandaid, while waiting for an x-ray. But the man, who’d thanked with a heartbreaking little smile, putting up a brave face again and accepting assistance with the long coat, just struck a chord with Filip.  
  
“Ye have anyone ye can call, lad?”  
“911? My cat, if she’s not busy.”  
  
For the first time ever, Filip had broken hospital protocol and stuck a piece of paper with his name and number on in the hand of a patient. Ron, as the fragile yet slightly mouthy creature was called, had looked perplexed.  
  
“What’s this?”  
“Scotland Yard.”  
  
The man had laughed, wincing at the pain in his head, but the smile… It had been a fucking beautiful smile and Filip silently cursed himself for breaking all kinds of rules, not to mention common sence, but it had been a particularly busy night, it was late and there were no little cards and pamphlets for abused boyfriends to hand out.  
  
He only did what he, on a gut level, knew was the right thing. Or at least better than nothing. Ron even tucked the paper into his pocket.  
  
”It might take a while before the doc’s comin’. Ye just wait here.”  
“Thanks, man.”  
“Aye… Well, I gotta keep goin’, but ye take care now, Ron.”  
“You too… Filip. My ride is waiting.”  
”Darlin’, ye deserve better than that bastard.”  
  
He’d not meant to say that last one, certainly not the endearment, it had just slipped and a self-ironic, almost twisted smile had curved the lanky man’s lips.  
  
”I’m a bit of a handful, _sister_. Maybe I _need_ a firm hand.”  
  
In that moment, Filip had been so, so tempted to simply call the cops on that fucking arsehole in the waiting room, despite not even knowing if he was the one who’d made it, but Filip was young and tired and the idea of this apparantly self-hating creature walking straight back to more beatings and oppression, was just unacceptable.  
  
“In my experience, _darlin’_ , if ye cannae offer it without breaking spirits, ye’re not givin’ a firm hand, ye’re jus an abusive, controlling arsehole.”  
  
He’d absolutely stepped over the line and expected the man to be offended, lots of victims of domestic violence were when being confronted, because they were ashamed and took responsibility for something that in no fucking way was their fault. It didn’t help that they often still loved their abusers to some extent, trapped in a horrible situation where they’d been slowly and systimatically broken down, to a point where they didn’t think they deserved any better.  
  
And this victim was, in fact, a non-heterosexual male which in the 90’s meant no fucking support groups, but more likely people being disgusted, making fun of you and simply just thinking that since most _women_ still had themselves to blame for not leaving abusive partners, a supposedly homosexual man taking repeated beatings from his partner, was just a hilarious joke and further proof that those sickening faggots were fucking mental who got what they asked for.  
  
The man, however, had just smiled again, this time that beautiful one, weirdly full of life and even a little cheeky, as if there was another man hidden beneath the mouthy, yet watchful façade. A mask, if you could call it that.  
  
“As I just said, _sister Scottish not Irish_ , my ride is waiting. And with them scars, baby, I don’t think you’re the right person to give too many advices.”  
“Maybe, but the one who gave’em to me, isn’t my ride tonight. In fact, darlin’, he’s not ridin’ anyhing these days...”  
  
_Present day:_  
  
Filip was sitting on the backporch, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen as he slowly let the memory rest again. Ron’s second Doris Day rose bush, the gift from Juice, had been planted within eyeshot from the kitchen window so that Filip’s husband could enjoy the view of his favourite roses from there as well. 25-year-old Filip hadn’t known shite about flowers, hell, he hardly knew anything now, and when that phone call he’d both dreaded and hoped for, eventually came, his first thought had been to bring the man in the E.R. some flowers.  
  
He’d not went to a shop, but to a friend who had an astonishing garden, asking to buy one of her flowers for a special situation. She’d asked him about the occasion and when it was clear it was meant for, not a patient, really, at least not his, but he needed to be… cheered up, Filip’s friend had cut him a rather large, yellow rose. Now, twentythree years later, that exact kind of yellow rose was still Ron’s favourite, although Juice of course didn’t know just how much it meant for him.  
  
Filip and Ron loved their baby boy, but some secrets weren’t meant to be shared this early on. Nothing on Earth would make Filip put his strong, vulnerable husband’s wounds on display. Or allow anyone to mess with his roses.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys are off on a picnic, which means mixed feelings for the baby boy.

”Can I help ye with the basket, lovey?”  
“Yes, please. Thank you, baby. I’ll go looking for a better parking place.”  
”Any spot requests?”  
”Something with a bit of shadow, I think.”  
”Ye didn’t bring the parasol?”  
”It broke two days ago and I’ve not had the time to get us a new one.”  
“I guess I’ll find us some shadow then, darling. Ye come with me, Juice.”  
“Yes, Daddy. Can… can I help with something?”  
”Aye. Gonnae need ye to help me find tha’ piece o’ shadow for yer Papi.”  
“I’ll try, Daddy.”  
“Good boy.”  
  
Juice had never been to a picnic, a fact that used to make him a little sad and jealous as a kid, and simply feeling out of place as an adult. Whenever he spotted families or groups of friends taking part in that activity in parks he would pass during his normal, weekly routine, the sight usually made him feel uneasy. The park had never been a place for such things in Juice’s childhood. Only a place to run away and hide at, whenever his current residence felt too unsafe, which was more often the rule than exception.  
  
And eating in the park, either meant the cheapest shit available nearby or, on particularly bad occasions, digging through the trash cans. Picnic baskets were for other people, _good_ people, not for useless little shitheads like him, he thought as he walked behind Daddy.  
  
“Juicyboy?”  
  
He almost jumped, realising he’d been caught in a bad thought again, and he felt increadily anxious, scared for not being grateful enough, as he forced himself to look at Daddy, who seemed more worried than anything.  
  
“Wha’s happening right now in tha’ head o’ yers, lil’ one? Try an’ tell Daddy.”  
“I… “  
  
God, why was it so hard? His daddies were so nice to him, _spoiled_ him really, and here he was, not even managing a fucking smile. Such an ungrateful brat, being all moody and whiny…  
  
”Ye’ve never been to a picnic before, have ye, laddie?”  
  
Juice could only manage to shake his head, which was rude since Daddy deserved a proper “no, Daddy” and a boy meeting his gaze. Now he’d ruined this with his moodiness, Papi had made that nice picnic basket for nothing and Daddy’s day off from work was ruined too. This was what happened when people did nice things for Juice. He’d just fuck everything up.  
  
“I’m so sorry, lovey… We should’ve told ye in advance.”  
  
Wait, what? Juice looked up, the surprise overtaking the fear, and Daddy didn’t… no, he really didn’t look angry or disappointed at all. More like surprised and… yes, a little _sad_. Daddy held his hand out, but Juice was too ashamed to let himself be touched and he curled his upper body into himself, facing away. There was no worse feeling in the world, except for the one of being alone, than disappointing his daddies.  
  
“Juicyboy, my love… My lil’ one… Daddy’s _good boy_ … Please, look at Daddy, lovey. Ye’ve not done anything wrong _at all_ , little darlin’, no one’s angry or disappointed with ye…”  
  
Finally, Juice managed to peek up, but he was still close to frozen from the tension and he hated himself for wincing when Daddy tried to take his hand, and hid his face again. Daddy didn’t move then, only kept talking, low and calm.  
  
“Would it be of any help if I told ye, tha’ yer Papi literally fled the table during our first real date, leaving me alone with a bottle of champagne and specially made dessert and a lot o’ fancy people in suits an’ evening dresses staring at me as I tried to keep eating, pretending it was no big deal.”  
  
Juice looked up, astonished and speechless, and Daddy had his softest smile, those dark eyes so kind and warm.  
  
“I was just a wee muppet from Glasgow, who desperately wanted to impress a gorgeous man I’d never expected to actually say yes to a date in the first place. An’ I almost scared him away for good.”    
  
Daddy now brushed a hand over Juice’s hair, slowly and still looking him in the eye.  
  
”Kinda’ thought tha’ since he was a bit of a rock star an’ everything, tha’ he was used to… I donno, extravagance. Was worried he’d find me cheap an’ boring… Not _urbane_ enough. My carved smile didn’t exactly help me feel very confident either.”  
  
Juice actually leaned into him now, the tension starting to ease down a little and he took a deep breath.  
  
“But you… went on another date, Daddy. P-papi gave Daddy a se-second chance.”  
“Tha’ he did, lil’ one. So… Daddy loaded his saddlebags with beer an’ weed, rubbers an’ lube an’ picked Papi up for a ride to Lodi Lake, where he spent a whole night getting to know him _really_ well.”  
  
Juice smiled too now, almost giggled, and Daddy dropped a kiss on his forehead.  
  
”Guess what I’m tryin’ to say, lovey, is tha’ both me an’ Papi are _well_ aware of the difference between being an ungrateful brat, an’ being a wee bit overwhelmed. Neither of us have had what ye would call a _normal_ life, laddie. We should’ve been better at asking ye questions.”  
“You’re not… angry with me then, Daddy?”  
“Absolutely not, lovey. C’n I give my good boy a cuddle?”  
  
He _absolutely_ could. In fact, Juice all but pressed himself into his arms, finally able to take comfort and let go of, not all but enough of the fear, to not being overruled by it anymore.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picnic time, where we learn exactly how much Papi hates rudeness and when the head of the househould does best just sitting back and listen.

”Wha’ ‘bout that one?”  
”The local dealer. No one dresses that innocent unless they deal drugs.”  
“Oh aye? What’s she dealin’ then?”  
“Crystal meth. You tell me that coat isn’t the perfect hiding place for crystal.”  
“She’s at least _eighty_ , Ron.”  
“Like I said, baby. Perfect.”  
“Ye’re a very weird man sometimes, lovey.”  
  
Daddy shook his head as he took another bite of his BLT and Papi gave Juice a pretty smug smile. Juice couldn’t stop himself from giggle, which had Daddy roll his eyes and Papi grinning even bigger.  
  
“What’s his deal, Papi? The guy with the spikes and sneakers?”  
  
Juice nodded discretely at a muscled guy who had his very short hair in blonde spikes, wore large shades and walked with his nose in his phone. Papi took a sip of the club soda and adjusted his glasses.  
  
“Clearly a serial killer in the making. Just look at those biceps.”  
“ _I_ have large biceps, Papi.”  
“Yes, but yours are different, baby boy.”  
_“How?”_  
“Yours aren’t sitting on a future seriel killer, who’s sharing his bed with a corpse.”  
“Papi!”  
“Ron!”  
”Hey, you boys asked. Don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just telling the truth. Only future serial killers use that kind of hair bleach and sneakers. Have some more gazpacho, baby boy. You need the vitamins.”  
“Thank you, Papi.”  
“You want some more as well, love?”  
“Aye, thank ye, lovey. Tastes really good, Ron.”  
  
Juice nodded to that.  
  
“It does, Papi.”  
“That makes me one happy little homemaker. Oh, look, there’s the soccer mom mafia and their minions. Quickly, hide the wine!”  
  
Daddy snorted from laughter, actually choking on his gazpacho and Papi had to pat his back. Juice cracked up as well and Papi glared at the women and children.  
  
“See how they walk, baby boy? Like they and their snotty little crotch fruits owned the place. Mark my words, had we been ten feet closer, we’d all be developing SARS before dessert. Bet they didn’t even bring wet wipes.”  
“Ron, darling, if ye’re convinced we’re surrounded by death threats, why are we even here?”  
“To have a lovely lunch while feeling superior of course, dear husband.”  
  
Juice still laughed.  
  
“You don’t like kids at all, do you Papi?”  
“Unless they’re at least 28, God no.”  
“Why 28, Papi?”  
  
Daddy then patted Juice’s hand, shaking his head in exasperation.  
  
“Don’ even _try_ ‘an make sense of wha’ yer Papi’s saying right now, lad. Trust me, t’is futile. He once spent two weeks in Scotland with me, determined to find a leprechaun.”  
“That’s… not even the right _country_ , Daddy.”  
“Believe me, laddie, I told him that. Didn’t stop him, though. Neither that, nor the fact tha’ they don’ bloody exist.”  
  
Papi stroke Daddy’s cheek.  
  
“Now you’re just being impossible on purpose, baby. I _saw_ one.”  
  
Daddy closed his eyes, looking like he was sending a silent prayer for patience.  
  
“That, dear husband, was my cousin’s wee toddler in a green pajamas.”  
“Uh-huh. And where are her parents from, love?”  
“Bloody _Cork_.”  
“Exactly.”  
  
Papi nodded as if he was making absolute sense and started to collect the now empty soup cups, replacing them with new ones for coffee. Daddy just exchanged an mockingly exasperated look with Juice, who’s earlier anxiety seemed to have vanished as quickly as it had come. He’d been so busy listening to and laughing at Papi’s ridiculous talking, to get worried with eating or anything else.  
  
Rules about food didn’t change just because they were outdoors and it was clear that Papi loved the opportunity to not need _any_ assistance at all. Daddy simply stretched out his legs on the grass, laying down to rest a bit and Juice couldn’t resist the urge to move closer to him. He gave him a questioning look, asking for permission and Daddy, of course, gave it and let his boy lean in. Juice wasn’t that tired, not like the other day, but it was so relaxing just resting against Daddy and listening to Papi’s smalltalk.  
  
Daddy constantly petted him; stroking Juice’s hand, nuzzling his scalp, placing little kissing on his hair and scratching his neck. Juice wasn’t left out, no matter if he wanted to join the conversation or not and that, certainly, felt new. Small pets kept reassuring him that he was a part of this, that he was there _with_ them and never just _around_ them.  
  
“Uhm… Excuse me? _Excuse me?_ ”  
  
Juice opened his eyes, involuntarily tensing against Daddy’s chest. A clearly agitated woman was standing right beside Papi’s picnic basket. Papi removed his sunglasses and looked straight at the woman.  
  
“How may we help you, ma’m?”  
  
His tone of voice looked like it surprised the angry lady, but she still kind of towered over their blanket and she seemed pretty upset.  
  
“I don’t mean to intrude or anything, but… this park is a _family_ place.”  
  
Papi smiled.  
  
“Yes, it most certainly is, ma’m. We’re lucky to have access to such beautiful surroundings, aren’t we, baby?”  
  
Daddy smiled as well, stroking Juice’s hair.  
  
“Aye, we are. Is there anything we can help ye with, ma’m?”  
  
The lady clearly hadn’t expected this level of courtesy from the men and now her two boys had approached. They seemed to be around five and seven, each of them holding a small cupcake, Juice had never been good at deciding age, and the youngest of them had his eyes set on Papi’s raspberry pie, which he’d decided to bring along instead of the fruit salad. Before their mom had a chance to answer Daddy, the boy pointed at the dessert.  
   
“Wha’s that?”  
  
Papi gave him a friendly, but not overly enthusiastic smile.  
  
“This, little man, is a raspberry pie.”  
“I want some. Mom, I want that.”  
  
The kid actually walked straight towards the pie and Papi frowned, quickly putting it out of reach.  
  
“It’s ‘may I please have some’, little man. And it’s not polite to walk over a set blanket.”  
“Justin, we’re not having any pie. Come back here! Get away from those nasty people.”  
  
Daddy cleared his throat.  
  
”Excuse me, ma’m, but we’re not vermin an’ I do not tolerate such behavior towards my family.”  
“Well excuse _me_ , but I have kids here.”  
  
Papi smiled and reached out a hand to pet Juice’s cheek.  
  
“What a coincidence, so have we, ma’m.”  
“This isn’t funny!”  
  
Daddy peered at her.  
  
“Then why did ye have’em in the first place? There is a thing called birth control.”  
“You people are disgusting, you know that? Forcing your agenda on children, you should be ashamed of yourselves! And you there… a grown man laying like that… It’s just… perverted!”  
  
Juice immediately felt a flash of devestation, like he’d been caught doing something wrong and dirty and now got publicly shamed for it. He felt small, ugly and – yes – disgusting. His daddies most certainly were regretting this now, he’d made them look bad and surely they’d never do anything like this with him again.  
  
Then he heard Daddy’s calm voice.  
  
“Ron, darlin’…”  
“Of course, love.”  
  
There was a pause and then Papi cleared his throat.  
  
“Normally, ma’m, I try and avoid this kind of language in front of children, but judging by their behavior around strangers and their picnic food, there’s probably not much I can provide with when it comes to bad influence.”  
  
Juice couldn’t help but look now and Papi, although completely calm, looked and sounded nothing but terrifying.  
  
“This is a free country, ma’m, which means that _my_ family has the exact same right to enjoy the nice weather, as rude and homophobic soccer moms with poorly raised crotch goblins who haven’t learned social behavior because said mom apparantly was too busy being a fucking cunt to take the time teaching them basic courtesy.”  
  
The woman just stared, incapable of answering and her face was red. Juice stared too, because he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. The unruly kids were all frozen on spot, gaping at the man in a black short-sleeve and half-buzzed hairstyle, giving their mom a telling-off.  
  
Papi frowned again and the kids actually backed a step. Papi quickly looked to the mom again, now nailing her with those terrifying eyes.  
  
“I do not expect a woman as poorly behaved as you, to actually apologize to me and my family, ma’m, so if I were you, I’d make it easy for myself and simply crawl back to the dark hole you came from, before I’m forced to use strong language.”  
  
She just gaped now and Papi rose his non-existing eyebrows.  
  
“Anything else, ma’m? If not, I suggest you make some distance between your minions and my family, or I’ll shove one of them nasty, processed cupcakes of yours so far up your ass you’ll lactate chocolate frosting. Am I making myself clear, _ma’m_?”  
  
There was a beat and then the now redfaced and shocked woman just grabbed her kids and left. Juice still just looked at Papi and then Daddy, then Papi again. Daddy patted Juice’s hand.  
  
“And this, laddie, is why most people only make the mistake of being rude to yer Papi _once_ , an’ a perfect example of when yer Daddy absolutely shouldn’t try an’ help.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wine, poems and the oh so familiar anxiety.

”Well hast thou spoken, and yet not taught, a feeling strange or new; Thou hast but roused a latent thought, a cloud-closed beam of sunshine brought, to gleam in open view…”  
  
Juice sipped slowly on his wine from his position in Papi’s lap, leaning back onto his chest. After that little interruption from the rude assholes, he’d felt fragile and sort of needing to be close to Papi again. He couldn’t really name the feeling, but it came pretty close to protectiveness. Papi had made this picnic with Daddy’s and Juice’s happiness in thought, and then that woman called him disgusting. It made Juice’s blood boil and maybe Papi understood that, because he closed his free arm around Juice’s chest in a protective, soothing gesture, as if saying _I know, baby boy,_ _I know, but it’s all over now and Papi’s got you._  
  
The picnic wasn’t ruined, Juice knew that, when he was able to calm down enough to think properly. But he was still insecure and tugged a little at Papi’s arm.  
  
“Papi?”  
“Yes, sweetheart?”  
”Uhm… Are you okay?”  
  
Papi looked over his glasses, a little confused as if he didn’t know what Juice was talking about.  
  
“Of course I’m okay, baby boy. Why wouldn’t I?”  
“Ye’re thinking ‘bout tha’ rude woman, laddie?”  
  
Daddy looked at him and Juice nodded.  
  
”Was mean to Juice’s Papi and Daddy…”  
  
He’d degraded to childen’s language again, it wasn’t on purpose, it never was and only happened when he got really anxious. The rules and boundaries had been rocked, at least that’s how it felt after Papi’s dressing down of the rude lady. Not that she’d not deserved it, or that Papi wasn’t simply awesome at doing it, but Juice had never seen Daddy take a step back like that before.   
  
Papi put the book down and removed his glasses.  
  
”Juice, are you afraid that I might have been disobedient?”  
“J-Juice doesn’t know, Papi…”  
  
Now he bit his lip again, worrying it really and Daddy leaned down, pressing a kiss on his temple.  
  
“Stop doin’ that to yer lip, laddie. It’s gonnae get swollen.”  
“Yes, Daddy. Sorry, Daddy.”  
“Hey, what have we said ’bout apologizing for bein’ anxious?”  
“That it’s not… right, Daddy?”  
“Good boy. Now let me remind ye of what we talked about when we first got to know each other, aye? Who’s making the final decision about everything in this family?”  
“You are, Daddy.”  
“And wha’ do I do, when ye or yer Papi disobey?”  
“You spank us, Daddy.”  
“Everytime, lad?”  
”No, Daddy. Only when you think it’s necessary.”  
”And how do I decide that?”  
“You… talk to us, Daddy. Findin’ out why we were naughty.”  
 “Precisely.”  
  
Daddy smiled and petted his cheek.   
  
”Daddy talk to you and then decide what to do. And why is that? Why’s Daddy making tha’ decision for ye and Papi?”  
“Cause Juice and Papi trust you, Daddy.”  
“Good boy, Juicy. _Atta boy_.”  
  
The emphasy on the praise almost had Juice rub up to Papi’s chest like a cuddly, needy cat, and Daddy leaned closer to hug them both, nuzzling Juice’s neck.  
  
“Did ye notice when I said yer Papi’s name, just before he gave tha’ nasty cunt the dressing down she deserved?”  
”Did, Daddy.”  
”How did I sound, lovey? Did I sound angry or disappointed?”  
  
Juice had to think for a second and then he shook his head.  
  
“No, Daddy. D-don’t think so.”  
“An’ ye think absolutely right, my bright boy.”  
  
Daddy nuzzled him again, this time his nose and Juice couldn’t hold back a smile. Daddy smiled as well.  
  
“There’s my sunshine… Daddy’s _good boy_. I never lecture yer Papi in public, laddie, ye remember tha’, right?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“I understand ye sometimes forget tha’, especially in a new environment with us an’ this time tha’ nasty woman scared ye too. We don’t expect ye to fully grasp all of our life together yet, lil’ one. It takes time to get to know another person an’ sometimes yer daddies don’t understand their lil’ lad either. No one’s perfect, Juicyboy, we’re _all_ taking one step at a time.”  
  
Now Daddy kissed him, a soft, warm kiss on the lips and Juice blushed. Kisses on the mouth outside strictly sexual activies, was still a rare thing, and always close-mouthed. It indicated a kind of intimacy his lovers usually reserved for marriage alone and having one now, told Juice that neither Daddy nor Papi were displeased with him – or with each other.   
  
“Right now, my lil’ one, all ye have to know is tha’ Daddy an’ Papi love each other _and_ their baby boy very much. An’ I know I said no one’s perfect, lovey, but trust me on this: ye’re the perfect lil’ lad for _us_.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy/Papi time again :)

“He asleep, love?”  
”Aye, he was exhausted.”  
”Poor little baby boy… It was all too much for him.”  
“Darling, please don’t walk down tha’ guilt trip road… Not tha’ I don’t love spanking tha’ plump little arse o’ yers, but yer old man is kinda tired in his spankin’ arm right now.”  
“Don’t worry, baby. I’d never wear out your spanking arm. I’m not feeling anxious or stressed out, Filip, I just think you and I might need to talk about Juice. If you have the time, of course.”  
  
Filip swirled his arms around Ron’s middle and kissed his neck, which made Ron smile. It felt nice to be back home again. Good to have their baby boy resting a bit and Filip nibbled his shoulder a bit.  
  
“Always got time for my favourite husband.”  
  
Ron smirked now.  
  
”Where exactly are your other husbands, love? You’ve been talking about them for twenty years now and I’ve still not seen any sign of them.”  
“Oh, my spare husbands are all in my secret storage.”  
“Ah, yes, the secret storage I know of. How many have you got there?”  
“How would I know? Hardly ever have time to see them, since ye’re such a handful.”  
  
Ron stuck his tongue out at that and was rewarded with a small pinch in his ass. Him and Filip both loved teasing each other, ever since the beginning. Ron, of course, knew exactly where the line went before it became rude and was pretty careful not to cross it since he, whatever the teasing might look like from the outside, had a deep and sincere respect for his husband.  
  
He placed a kiss on Filip’s lips.  
  
“Would my one and only favourite husband like to have a cup of tea in the garden?”   
“He would, thank ye.”  
  
A little while later, they were sitting on the backporch in the rattan chairs with their cups, enjoying the afternoon’s tranquillity in the lush garden. Ron sipped on his camomile tea, watching the sun glimmer on the rings on his finger.   
  
“He’s a little ray of sunshine… Our boy.”  
“Aye. Still cannae believe how we’ve not scared’im off yet.”  
“Guess you’re just damn hot and adorable, baby.”  
  
Filip chuckled at that. He’d never been good at taking a sincere compliment and so Ron had figured out that by using a bit of exaggeration and irony, the messege was more likely to hit home. Sitting like this, just the two of them and with no need for disciplin or discussing everyday business, Filip was so relaxed and Ron reached out to stroke a finger along one of the scars.  
  
“You do know I mean it, right? You’re a beautiful man, Filip. Always have been, always will be. You should see how our boy is looking at you when you’re not noticing… Like you hung the moon.”  
“He’s skittish… I know he needs the discipline, Ron, hell, he even craves it.”  
“But?”  
“This… arrangement we have, it wont last.”  
“What do you mean, Filip?”  
  
Ron didn’t like where this was going, or where he thought it was, but Filip took his hand, shushing him.   
  
“Let me finish, baby. I promise, ye don’t have to get all riled up, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
  
His husband squeezed his hand again.  
  
”I love ye, baby. Ye know tha’. An’ I love our lad. More than I… Well, lets say it’s been one hella’ surprise.”  
  
Ron smiled at him, not answering but rather just waiting until his husband was finished and, not allowed him to speak his mind, but inviting him to. Filip rubbed his thumb over Ron’s knuckles.  
  
“Wha’ I mean is, tha’ this, seeing each other only on a few weekends, whenever we can make our schedules sync, wont be enough. This arrangement, sooner or later, will need some adjustments. For all our sake.”  
“Is this your way of telling me that you’d want for our boy to live with us?”  
  
Filip didn’t answer, merely looking a bit nervous and Ron let him wait a little before he showed his smile, the one that told his husband more than words and Filip huffed.  
  
“Ye’re doin’ tha’ thing again, lovey…”  
“What thing, sweet husband?”  
“Makin’me think ye’re not manipulating me, when I already know ye are.”  
“Yeah? Who’s the one almost breaking the rule of not letting your husband _guess_ what’s one your mind, huh? Now you better talk to me, Filip Telford, or I’ll go napping with our little one.”  
  
Ron knew he didn’t push any boundaries, his man was smiling now, once again squeezing his hand. Then he turned serious.  
  
“Juice seems… fragile. An’ anxious, more than usual. He’s lost weight, he’s stressed out, he’s…”  
”Skittish as hell, Filip. Skittish as hell.”  
”Aye. He is.”  
”And so you’d like for me to keep an eye on him?”  
“Well… Not exactly, ye’ve got enough work as it is, but…”  
“Filip…”  
“Aye, darlin’?”  
”Before you spanked him, he told me that he wasn’t good on his own.”  
“He said tha’?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Shite…”  
”And he’s been degrading his speaking a lot this time, which isn’t really part of our arrangement. He only ever does that when he’s really messed up. Doesn’t have to be anything major that’s happened, it’s all about the little shitty stuff spread out over time, but… Our baby boy is clearly exhausted, Filip, and to be honest, I’m really uncomfortable with just sending him back to that lonely, depressing apartment of his.”  
  
Filip sighed and for a moment, Ron thought he’d misread him, that he’d say Ron was worrying too much, but then his husband chuckled and leaned over to give him a deep kiss. Ron frowned.  
  
“What now, baby?”  
”I love it when ye help yer old man to tell ye wha’s on his mind.”  
  
He brushed a finger over Ron’s cheek.  
  
”Wha’ would I do without ye, lovey.”  
  
Ron blushed.  
  
“Well, lucky for both of us, I don’t plan on ever finding out.”


	23. Chapter 23

“Did you have a nice nap, baby boy?”  
”Yes, Papi.”  
”Good. Looks like you’re feeling better, my little love.”  
”Was more tired than I realised, Papi.”  
”Think so too, sweetheart.”  
  
Papi kissed his nosetip.  
  
”Are you hungry?”  
”No, Papi.”  
”Good, ’cause dinner isn’t due for a few more hours and Papi would like some time with his baby boy.”  
  
Juice suddenly felt worried and Papi could feel it – how did the man do that? – and stroke his hair.  
  
“Shh, baby boy, shh. No one’s angry with you, you’ve done nothing wrong and I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want to, remember?”  
“Y-yes, Papi.”  
“Good boy. Can Papi have a cuddle while we talk?”  
  
Juice all but pressed himself into his arms, he could never get enough of Papi’s – or Daddy’s – cuddles. But Papi was sometimes better, or at least Juice needed _his_ kind of cuddles more when he felt extra fragile. He didn’t really know why.  
  
When Papi had arranged them so they both lied comfortable and Juice could snuggle in his arms, Papi nuzzled his hair.  
  
“This is absolutely _not_ a ‘Papi and Daddy are disappointed’ kind of talk, baby boy, I can’t stress that enough. We’re both so proud of you, we feel so lucky to have you with us and we know that you have a lot of struggles. The so called life puzzle is never easy, baby boy, and yours is definitely not an exception.”  
  
He rocked Juice a bit.  
  
“Have we told you about our wedding vows?”  
”T-to love, cherish and… protect? An’… obey.”  
“Exactly, my love. Do you know what that means in our daily life?”  
“D-daddy makes the decisions an’ you obey.”  
“Yes, because, and this is key, we both promised to love and cherish one another.”  
  
Papi now kissed his crown again.  
  
”I obey Daddy, not because I can’t think or decide things for myself. I’m not stupid and I’m not weak, I just need a strong man to support me so that _I_ can be strong. You understand what I mean?”  
“Th-think so, Papi. Y-you know Daddy kno-knows best.”  
”Yes, baby boy. But it took a long time before we both came to that conclusion. We were both young and had been in bad places. Took three years before we married and I can tell you, it wasn’t always easy. We fought a lot, broke up and went back together several times.”  
  
Juice knew that it hadn’t been a straight path for his daddies, but picturing them fight and break up was difficult. It just didn’t suit them. Papi gave a slightly sad smile, stroking his cheek.  
  
“Before I met your Daddy, you know I was with a man who didn’t treat Papi well at all. And to make it even worse, Papi didn’t understand that he deserved better. He despised himself and, as you’ve seen…”  
  
He pulled his shirtsleeve up, revealing the tarnished skin on his lower arm.  
  
“Papi would cut himself, baby boy, because he was so angry, scared and lonely. I felt trapped and hated myself, thought I deserved to be beaten and controlled. I thought that since I wanted to be submissive not only in bed, but in my daily life, I had to take abuse as well.”  
  
Juice had seen Papi’s arms before, of course, but he’d not gotten a detailed explanation of their state and he felt sad and angry, knowing that someone had dared to treat Papi like that. The scars were all white now and the tattoos covered some of them, at least shifted focus from them. Juice stroke a hand over them, wanting to soothe a pain that maybe, he didn’t know, still made his Papi sad sometimes.  
  
“You’re beautiful, Papi. Shouldn’t hurt yourself.”  
“Thank you, baby boy, and believe me, I don’t. Not anymore. I know Daddy told you about our first date, but did he tell you about his terms for getting serious with me?”  
“No, Papi.”  
“Well, baby boy… I had to go to therapy.”  
“Why?”  
“Because when your Daddy realised what a bad state I was in, he knew I wouldn’t be well enough to make the decision of being in the kind of relationship we both wanted. It simply was too big a risk that I’d slip back into the wrong and unhealthy kind of submissiveness. Your Daddy craves protecting and I crave protection, baby boy. When we step outside those boundaries, we wear masks, because other people can’t handle who we truly are and in order to protect ourselves, we have set up rules for when we can and must put those masks on.”  
  
Juice still petted Papi’s arms and the man smiled.  
  
“Marriage, baby boy, is all about needing each other. Fulfilling needs, not just one, but several. Doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be each other’s everything  in all things, or even like each other all the time. Believe me, Juice, there are days when me and Daddy simply can’t stand each other.”  
“Seriously?”  
“We’re only humans, sweetheart, and just as Daddy will tell me when he thinks I’ve been disobedient, _I_ will tell _him_ if I don’t feel cherished or protected. The kind of trust we have, takes a very long time to build and requires a hell of a lot dedication and patience, which brings me to the subject of mine and Daddy’s lil’ one.”  
  
He gave another shallow kiss, this time on Juice’s lips. By now, Juice felt a lot calmer, after hearing some more about Papi’s and Daddy’s story, and listening without getting all wind up, was almost easy.  
  
“It’s quite normal, Juice, to worry about one another in a relationship. It’s got nothing to do with obedience and is absolutely not unique for our marriage. We only chose a different way or living, but loving someone, will always mean you’ll worry sometimes. I get worried for your Daddy if he’s having a rough time at work for too long a period, and he gets worried if I get too focused on household work, because he knows I’ll just end up obsessed, stressed out and sad. Just as I know he’ll turn into a grumpy, stubborn ol’ bear who thinks he can handle all his shit without Papi’s help.”  
  
Papi grinned and Juice couldn’t hold back a giggle.  
  
“Can you really talk about Daddy like that, Papi?”  
”You really think I would, if I couldn’t, baby boy?”  
“Uhm… no?”  
“Good answer. I want to obey him, sweetheart. It makes me happy and is my way of expressing love, but he’s not my _master_ , Juice, he’s my dominant husband and there’s a difference. You know well by now, that what your Daddy and I have, is quite different from role playing. We tried that too, but it didn’t’ suit us. I just became miserable and he was frustrated and worried, because the sexual part of our agreement is only _one_ of many pieces. If I’m forced to contain my need to please and obey in our bedroom, I feel trapped and, strange as it may sound, controlled.”  
“Because you feel good when Daddy is in charge.”  
“Yes, baby boy, and I’m sure you know better than most people how confusing it can be to have that need in a society praising the individual independence above all things. It’s a bit accepted to have some kinky stuff going on in bed, but a twentyfour years old rock singer quitting his band, letting go of a career in order to be a submissive homemaker, is a whole different story. It cost me more than I ever could’ve imagined and it certainly hasn’t been easy, but I’ve not regretted my decision one day. Not one day, baby boy.”  
  
The worry was gone now. Juice still held onto Papi, looking at the inside of his left lower arm and the tattoo there.  
  
“Can I ask you something, Papi?”  
“Anything, baby boy.”  
“Why do you have a Bible quote tattooed?”  
“It’s the one from mine and Daddy’s wedding. Don’t have to be a Christian to find some wisdom in the Bible.”  
“But you despise religion, Papi.”  
“Very much so, but that Paul guy had a point, despite being a misogynistic, homophobic asshole. Real love, baby boy, is patient…”  
  
Juice looked at the ink again, continuing to read the quote in his head from where Papi had stopped: _love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres._  
   
The letters were extremely small and only covered a piece of Papi’s arm.  
  
“My point is, Juicy, that although love requires that we do our best to be a unit, it doesn’t mean we’re gonna abandon one another when we fail to live up to that commitment. Me and Daddy have our agreement and then the three of us have _our_ special agreement. It was a long lesson for me to learn, that Daddy doesn’t love me any less when I disappoint him. Even if I’d raise living hell, call him all sorts of nasty things and act like a fucking idiot, running out on him and I do not know all, he’d still love me all the same. He’d be angry, offended and I wouldn’t be sitting for a week, but there’s just no way he’d leave me alone in a mess like that.”  
“Has it happened, Papi?”  
“Lord help me, baby boy, I tested his boundaries like a twentyish combo of a toddler and defiant teen with raging hormones and feelings all over the place…”  
“Why?”  
“Because Papi was so sure Daddy would leave him and constantly tried to prove he was right which, as you know, didn’t work. _At all._ ”  
  
Now Papi chuckled and Juice had to grin himself.  
  
”Bet Daddy spanked you a _lot_ , Papi.”  
“A very safe bet, baby boy. It came to a point where he actually, and this is true, had me go out to to pick my own birch twigs every Friday for almost two years, which was humiliating as hell, and after he’d spanked me, I had to sit naked on a wooden chair while writing sentences.”  
“Sentences?”  
“Oh yes. Things like _’my husband loves my sorry ass more than anything and I’m a bloody muppet for thinking otherwise’_ or my personal favourite _‘I, Ronea Telford-Tully, knows better than letting my old self-hatred get in the way for my husband’s love for me’_."  
“Jesus…”  
  
Papi kissed Juice’s neck.  
  
“Your Daddy found out pretty early on what I needed to hear and learn, baby boy. Writing those sentences, in a way felt a lot worse than the spankings, because it was very difficult for Papi to stop hating himself and trust Daddy.”  
“I… I don’t hate myself, Papi.”  
  
He didn’t really know why he said it, Papi hadn’t asked or pried, but Papi just gave his slightly sad smile, as if he didn’t quite believe his boy.  
  
“Then let us take care of you, love. Trust Daddy and Papi to handle you and all those feelings and thoughts that are making your head feel like an overloaded tumble drier. Just a little more everytime, small steps, baby boy. Whatever it is you’re scared or ashamed of, I can safely promise, your Daddy and Papi have already dealt with in one way or another.”  
  
Juice smiled. He felt so much better now, relaxed almost completely, but as always, he needed more than just words and cuddles.  
  
“Papi?”  
“Yes, baby boy?”  
“You think I could ask Daddy for another spanking? Alone with just him this time?”  
  
Trust. Re-setting boundaries and roles. Yesterday, he’d been too anxious to do it the usual way, with just him and Daddy. Papi stroke his hair.  
  
“I’ll talk to him first, baby boy. And then, if he decides to consider it, he’ll need to make sure you’re fit for it so soon.”  
  
Juice swallowed now, feeling himself blush.  
  
“Uhm… You mean like… _medically_ fit, right, Papi?”  
“Yes, sweetheart. You’re sure you can handle that today? I know all too well how humiliating it feels.”  
  
Juice blushed even deeper as his trapped cock started to take a serious interest in the conversation.  
  
“Please, Papi… You said I was a good boy and… and good boys can ask their Daddies and Papis for things _. Please,_ Papi… let… let your baby boy know his place… Let him know who’s in charge…”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juice gets some special TLC from Daddy.

“Just relax, laddie. Can’t do this unless ye let me remove the plug first. Tha’s it… Atta boy.”  
  
Juice didn’t know what made him more hard: the praise, the humiliation or the small, slicked replacement of the plug. He was laying on the large bed, jeans and boxers pulled down just enough for Daddy to slip the thermometer in.  
  
“How are ye feelin’, Juice?”  
”Embarressed, Daddy.”  
”Nothing to be embarressed for, lil’ one. If I find it necessary, yer Papi undergoes this procedure as well. Daddy wont spank feverish lads an’ since ye already had a proper round over my lap yesterday and has had a rough few weeks, it’s my responsibility to make sure ye’re fit for what ye asked for. Ye’re all locked up as well, so ye don’t have to worry.”  
“But…”  
“Don’ question Daddy, Juice.”  
”Sorry, Daddy.”  
“Ye’re forgiven. Now lay still until it beeps.”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
  
It felt like an eternity of silent embarressment before the beep came and Daddy pulled it out.  
  
“No fever, lil’ one. Come an’ sit on Daddy’s lap.”  
“That felt really awkward, Daddy.”  
“Aye, I know, yer Papi says the same. But sometimes it’s necessary if I’m to take care o’ my boys properly, ye understand?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
  
Juice obediently pulled his boxers and jeans up, but didn’t button them, just had them up over his hips. They would go down soon enough and he tried not to think too much about it. Spankings had a little different procedures if they were actively asked for, to not confuse them with the ones doled out as punishments or for teaching a lesson. Juice straddled Daddy’s lap and leaned onto his shoulder.  
  
Daddy started stroking his back, circling moves to help him down a bit.  
  
“Tha’s my boy… _Good boy_ , Juicy. Now tell yer Daddy why ye want him to spank ye?”  
“I… I still feel kinda worried, Daddy, an’ I don’t know why. B-but… I _really_ need my Daddy. Papi’s an’ Daddy’s baby boy feels a little… boundless right now.”  
“So my lil’ lad needs Daddy to reset them again, tha’ right, laddie?”  
“Yes please, Daddy.”  
“An’ wha’ would ye want for me to use?”  
“It doesn’t matter, Daddy. You know best. Just… please, no ginger?”  
“Juicyboy, ye know Daddy never uses ginger unless in very special circumstances, when ye or yer Papi have really missbehaved or, like yesterday, when I knew ye needed it to really let go.”  
“Okay, Daddy.”  
“Good boy. Pants an’ boxers down, please. Ye need a pillow?”  
“Yes, please, Daddy.”  
“Such a well-behaved lad…”  
  
Juice blushed and dropped his pants and boxers, letting Daddy guide him gently over his lap and hand him a pillow to hold onto. It certainly wasn’t the same as when he was spanked for breaking rules. Daddy had his small wooden whisk now, which he only ever used for this kind of sessions. He started by just rubbing Juice’s ass fondly, indulging him for showing trust and making sure the trapped cock wasn’t rubbing against his thigh.  
  
“Ye tell Daddy if it’s starting to hurt in the wrong kind o' way or ye feel any other discomfort, ye understand me, laddie?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Good boy.”  
  
It stung more than actually hurt. Daddy was solid, kept him in place and would stop after a few strikes to rub Juice’s pink buttocks a bit before starting over.  
  
“Ye’re okay, lil’ one?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Good or bad hurt?”  
“Good, Daddy.”  
  
Daddy started all over, then paused again and repeated. It wasn’t long until Juice could relax and just cry. Daddy did his last round with the whisk, the one he did to make sure Juice would remain in the moment, while carding his other hand through Juice’s hair.  
  
“Almost done now, Juicy. Almost done, my boy, jus’ let go of whatever it is ye’re feeling… Daddy’s right here, nothing can hurt ye. There we go, lil’ one…”  
  
When it was done, Daddy rearranged them to lay chest to chest, with Juice as a cover on top of him so he could cry onto Daddy’s shoulder.  
  
“Tha’s my good boy… Daddy’s little darlin’ whom he loves so much…”  
  
Daddy kept talking in his low, husky voice, kept petting and soothing him like he had all the time in the world and Juice felt high from it.  
  
In here, with his daddies, he was important, loved and cared for. Nothing bad could happen, not in this moment, not in this house. His messed up thoughts seemed to straighten out, almost organizing themselves from Daddy’s solid gentleness. Still, Juice had to test him again.  
  
“Still a… fucking idiot, Daddy…”  
”No, no… none of that, lil’ one.”  
  
Daddy’s hand started circling over his shoulders. A firm, assuring movement along with the calming voice. No scolding, no anger or disappointment. Daddy was in charge, he had control over his own as well as Juice’s feelings and wasn’t scared.  
  
“I got ye, my skittish lil’ Juicyboy. Daddy’s got ye an’ _he_ says ye’re not an eejit. Daddy would never want an eejit an’ a real eejit wouldn’t be able to make Daddy love him like I love ye. Ye really think yer Daddy wouldn’t know the difference, lovey? Ye think Daddy is stupid?”  
“No… Never. Daddy’s not stupid.”  
“Well then, darlin’… If Daddy’s not stupid an’ he says his lil’ lad aint an eejit, even if a part o’ that lad’s mind wont believe him, does that mean Daddy is lying?”  
“No! No, Daddy never lies to Juice. Or Papi.”  
“Then we’re left with a few options, lil’ one. If Daddy’s neither stupid nor a liar, than maybe he’s been forced to love ye.”  
  
Juice looked up, completely perplexed and Daddy smiled.  
  
“Or someone put a spell on him, aye? Or perhaps Papi drugged his food with a secret ’love Juicyboy’ potion? Tha’ sneaky lil’ husband o’ mine… Must be why I’m not allowed in the pantry, tha’ sly, sly man…”  
  
Juice giggled, it sounded a bit bleak through the sobs, but it was there and it was Daddy who’d made it happen.  
  
“Daddy’s silly now… Juice’s gonna tell Papi.”  
”Aye, ye should, my boy. Tell yer Papi tha’ Daddy will be forever grateful tha’ he drugged my food so I could love my lil’ one. Ye silly muppet… Look at Daddy, darlin’.”  
  
Juice obeyed and Daddy looked serious again, but so calm and the dark eyes held no disappointment or anger, only love.  
  
“I’ve longed so much for ye, laddie. My heart just isn’t complete without ye anymore, Juice. I’ve handled yer Papi’s self-destructive tendensies for more than twenty eyars now, an’ trust me, he’s a _lot_ more stubborn than ye are. Ye really think I will give a _shite_ about wha’ yer self-hatred thinks an’ wants for my beloved boy, huh?”  
“No, Daddy.”  
“Ye think yer self-hatred is stronger than yer Papi’s then?”  
“I… I can’t really tell, can I Daddy?”  
”No, but _I_ can.”  
  
There was a glimpse of hurt in Daddy’s gaze, from an old and deep wound that maybe didn’t hurt anymore, but had left a permanent scar, far deeper than any of those on Papi’s arms.  
  
“Papi was a complete mess when I met him, lil’ one. Absolutely convinced he was worthless an’ refused to believe me when I tried to tell how I felt for’im. Had I allowed tha’ self-hatred to rule over _my_ heart an’ mind too, we wouldn’t be here, Juicyboy. Daddy wouldn’t have the best husband in the world by his side an’ his life would be incomplete and sad, because the man who was meant for him, would still be abused an’ alone or, which is a thought I really don’ wannae give voice to because it makes me so upset, but I’m gonnae tell ye so tha’ ye understand how serious this is: dead.”  
“Please, don’t say such things, Daddy!”  
  
Juice broke down in sobs again. It was still so fucking weird, and worrying, how much easier it was to listen after a spanking. How the controlled pain would cut right through his confusion and mess and just _stop_ it, not for good, but long enough for him to feel like he had steady, familiar ground under his feet again and a safe spot to sit down and think clear.  
  
“I… I know you’re right, Daddy. You’re right and m-my self-hatred is… is wrong.”  
“An’ why did Daddy spank ye now?”  
”B-because I was scared and didn’t know what to do.”  
“Close, lovey. Ye were scared, aye, but wha’ did ye do?”  
“Spoke to Papi?”  
”Aye, an’ ye told him tha’ ye needed another spanking, which make yer Daddy very, very glad an’ proud. Ye know why?”  
“No, Daddy.”  
“Because that tells Daddy tha’ his lil’ one _trusts_ him, tha’ instead o’ keeping the pain inside like ye often do, ye spoke to Papi an’ allowed us both to step in before it got worse, even if ye were scared. Daddy considered spanking ye because ye were brave an’ asked him for guidance, an’ he did spank ye once ye’d showed tha’ ye were willing to accept Daddy’s rules an' was medically fit for it.”  
  
Daddy kissed his forehead.  
  
“Ye need some lotion, lovey?”  
”Thank you, I’m good for now, Daddy.”  
”Wha’ ’bout yer cock?”  
  
Juice gave a small laughter.  
  
”It’s complaining, Daddy. Doesn’t chafe or anything, though.”  
“Good. An’ don’ worry, laddie. Ye’ve got a gorgeous arse, but I promise I’ll give tha’ lovely cock o’ yers some love an’ care too, later.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More special TLC from Papi, where we learn a little more of his backstory.

“Ye boys have fun now.”  
“We will, Filip. Drive safe, okay?”  
“Always, baby. Be nice to yer Papi now, laddie.”  
”I will, Papi.”  
”I’ll be back in a coupla hours an’ _please_ , Ron, promise I’ll reckognize ye when I’m back.”  
“When have I ever made a complete makeover you weren’t perfectly ready for, old man?”  
  
Daddy just rolled his eyes and made a mock shiver, before pulling his anything but innocent husband in for a kiss.  
  
“I refuse to answer tha’. I’ll get us some nice wine for dinner, tha’ alright, baby?”  
“Of course.”  
“Any requests?”  
“Well, I’m making roasted chicken.”  
”Red it is, then. Syrah?”  
“That’ll be nice.”  
  
Daddy smiled and gave Papi another kiss.   
  
“See ye soon. I love ye.”  
“Love you too.”  
“Love ye, lad.”  
“Love you too, Daddy.”  
  
Daddy left and Papi put his arms around Juice from behind, resting his chin on top of his head.  
  
“I think I can safely say, that you got what you needed from Daddy, baby boy.”  
“I did, Papi. Didn’t like the thermometer a lot though.”  
“Well, who does? But Daddy says, so Papi and Juicy will do. But you know what… Now it’s Papi’s turn to spoil his boy. Come!”  
  
Five minutes later, Juice was standing at the backporch, giving his Papi a suspicious and worried look.  
  
“Papi, what… what are you doing?”  
“Getting ready to pamper my good boy, of course.”  
  
Juice swallowed as he looked at the thing Papi was rigging.   
  
“What’s this, Papi?”  
“Christ _sake_ , Juicy, you’ve never seen a massage table before?!”  
  
Papi looked and sounded like it was the most absurd thing ever, Juice not reckognizing the item. Juice shrugged, blushing a little.  
  
“I have, Papi… Just not in… people’s homes, you know.”  
“Well, to be fair, it’s not that common, having one at home. Your Daddy gave to me on our third wedding anniversery, so it’s almost 18 years old.”  
  
Papi smiled now, it was obviously a nice memory.  
  
“I used to have a lot of back pain back then. Over worked, stressed out and Daddy sent me to several massage therapists.”  
“Why several, Papi?”  
“Because when the first one didn’t suit me, he simply found me another and after a while, well, it had become quite a few of them.”  
“Typical he only found the bad ones.”  
  
Papi made the final adjustments and gave Juice his self-ironic grin.  
  
“The therapists weren’t the problem, baby boy, your Papi was. Take your clothes off, love, I have a towel here. Oh, you _do_ want a massage, right?”  
“I’d love to, Papi.”  
“Thank God. I should’ve asked, must’ve lost my brain somewhere…”  
  
Papi shook his head and handed Juice a towel. Not that being nude was an issue, but Juice still appreciated the privacy a bit. He slipped out of his clothes and folded them neatly on one of the rattan chairs. He wasn’t plugged or trapped right now, his cock flaccid and Juice laid down on the massage table but kept his head to the side, watching Papi.  
  
The man wore a simple, grey tanktop and a pair of black, loose pants today, nothing dressed up at all and Juice quite liked it. Not that he didn’t love seeing Papi in his shirts, tight jeans and make-up too, but this dressed down Papi was positively hot and… cute.  
  
“What are you smiling at, boy?”  
”You, Papi. Like watching you… like this.”  
“You mean from the table?”  
“No, like in how you’re dressed. You’re hot. I mean, you’re always hot, but… I like this too.”  
  
Papi _blushed_. His smile was bashful and he’d lowered his eyes, so his eyelashes were resting against his cheeks.  
  
“Aren’t you just the sweetest… Now turn that cute face down so your Papi can stop blushing like the innocent school girl he absolutely isn’t, and start treating his baby boy.”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
“Good boy.”  
  
The time already spent with his Daddies, had helped a lot with Juice’s tension, but not nearly enough and as Papi started, Juice realised why they’d not fucked him yet. Spankings only took him so far and for a moment he felt almost ridiculously grateful that his Daddies clearly had noticed that fucking wouldn’t feel good for him before he was relaxed.  
  
“Papi?”  
“Yes, sweetheart?”  
“Why…. Why was you the problem and not the… masseurs? You and Daddy always say we shouldn’t… oh, tha’s good… shouldn’t speak ‘bout ourselves as… problems… Son of a _bitch_ , what was that?!”  
“Knots, baby boy. Just try and breathe against the pressure. Should I go lighter?”  
“No, I think… holy shit… think this is… fine, Papi. ‘S the good kind of… hurt.”  
“Good. Now about the massuers… I didn’t mean I was the problem as in being wrong or doing something wrong, baby boy. It was my tension that was the problem.”  
“Why were you so tense, Papi?”  
“I worked too much and… well, my head wasn’t always so kind to me and some tension simply can’t be treated with spankings.”  
“Probably not. You’re really good at this, Papi. Usually I don’t like massages.”  
”Why didn’t you say so, baby boy?”  
“No, I mean, I like this plenty, Papi. I’ve just never been comfortable getting them from strangers.”  
“That makes two of us, my love.”  
“Seems not really… I don’t know… very Daddyish to be a massuer, though.”  
  
Papi laughed.  
  
“He wasn’t, baby boy, not until two weeks before our anniversery. I think it was by masseur number four, when I actually came back home really angry and crying, that Daddy realised I only felt worse with the professionals, while his backrubs could send me to sleep. He wasn’t comfortable to go with trial and error, though, so he secretly took masseur classes on his alone time for eight months and when I came into the kitchen on our anniversery day to make breakfast, this table was there, along with his diploma and a card declaring both of them my anniversery gift to use whenever I wanted.”   
“God… That’s… probably one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever heard of, Papi.”  
“It’s been a real life savior, baby boy. Your Daddy is so good to me. When he knows what I need, he wont stop until I have it. Breathe against the pressure, love. There, that’s better.”  
  
Papi’s hands were so strong, but not at all rough and the oil he used was lukewarm and smelled from herbs of some kind, but nothing too prominent. It seemed as if the man knew Juice’s body inside out, which he did in other ways, but lots of people were amazing lovers and still lousy at backrubs. Suddenly, Juice’s mind recalled what Papi had just said.  
  
“Daddy’s a life saviour…”  
  
Papi stopped for a moment and Juice could hear him take a deep breath.  
  
“Literally, baby boy. Literally...”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-ass chapter split up between present day (as in present day in this fic) and 24 years earlier, when Ron and Filip had started dating. And since we don't actually know if Ron is short for Ronald in this case - I couldn't find it anyway - and I just don't think Ronald suits the character, I changed Ron's birthname to Ronea. 
> 
> Some TW:s in this chapter, check the tags.

**Lodi, 24 years earlier**  
  
”Ron? Ronea, are ye there?”  
“Go away.”  
“Why haven’t ye answered my calls?”  
“Haven’t been home. Now _leave_!”  
“Not until I know ye’re okay.”  
“Fuck you, I don’t have to let you in.”  
“Oh, ye think I cannae wait outside in a wee bit o’ rain? I’m from Glasgow, arsehole, I grew up soaked.”  
“Good for you. I don’t need your help, Filip, I’m fine.”  
“Ye’ve got three broken ribs, a concussion an’ ye left the hospital without yer prescription, so no, ye’re not bloody fine!”  
“So much for confidentiality, huh. Should’ve known that bitch would tell you.”  
“Ye’re my _chavie_ * an’ Lisa knows tha’, ye dafty! Ye really think she’d not tell me?!”  
  
Ron sank down, back to the door and went through his pockets with shaky fingers, while holding the small bundle in his arms. He needed a smoke and he needed some oxys, but more than anything, he needed for that annyoing Florence Nightingale wannabe to leave him alone, boyfriend or not. The lighter didn’t work, Ron’s fingers certainly didn’t and he threw it in the wall.  
  
_“Fuck!”_  
  
Everything hurt, he looked like a horror story and his hair… Ron was vain to some extent, he absolutely was, and the unevenly cut tangles made him look like a five-year-old playing hairdresser with mommy’s scissor.  
  
“Jus’ wannae help ye, Ronea.”  
“You can’t…”  
  
Ron almost never cried, but the obnoxious man on the other side of the door seemed determined to make him. He looked at the still warm bundle and started crying.  
  
“Ronea, darlin’, _please_? Talk to me.”  
“He got her…”  
“Got whom?”  
“Leah.”  
“Yer cat? Tha’ arsehole took yer cat?!”  
“Please, don’t yell at me… She’s… I gotta… she’s dead, Filip.”  
“Jesus Christ… He _killed_ her?”  
  
Filip sounded shocked and Ron snorted.  
  
“Killed my cat, broke my fingers, cut my _fucking hair_ … ”  
_“What?”_  
  
Another round of tears welled up and Ron sobbed helplessly into the bend of his arm. He didn’t want Filip to yell at him, but much to his surprise, the man lowered his voice.  
  
“Ronea… I… I cannae just leave, ye know, baby. Not until I know someone’s helpin’ ye. Cannae let ye be alone with a concussion, lovey. ‘S just not right an’ if I leave, I’d have to call the cops an’ report this.”  
“Don’t you fucking dare!”  
“I’m an ER health worker, Ronea, I have a moral obligation to do something an’ more importantly, we’re together! For God’s sake, lovey, open the bloody door.”  
  
Ron didn’t know why, because it was no point anyway, but he stood and unlocked the door. To his surprise, the man didn’t slam it in, but opened it rarther slowly and he was soaking wet, water dripping from his hair and jeans and leather jacket.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Ronea…”  
  
Filip spoke low now and closed the door, locking it behind him. He didn’t try and come closer, but simply watched Ron’s miserable appearance with a horrified expression on his scarred face. But his eyes, those dark, brown eyes… They just fucking looked at him and Ron angrily blinked away some tears.  
  
“Yeah, just keep staring at the freak show, _sister_.”  
  
Filip took his jacket off, he wore a black longsleeve beneath it, which was soaked as well, but the man didn’t seem to care. Instead he took his shoes off too and nodded at the bundle in Ron’s arms.  
  
“Can I?”  
  
Ron just nodded and Filip slowly opened the bundle wrapped in an old, bloodstained t-shirt. Leah’s skull had been crushed and Ron started whimpering again at the sight. Filip wrapped her back, softly as if the little creature was still alive. His boyfriend was always so fucking gentle…  
  
“Do ye have anything we can put her in, lovey?”  
  
Ron shook his head, wincing at the pain.  
  
“No. Jus’ an… old donut box an’… an’ I aint gonna let her lay in… frostings…”  
  
He broke down again and now he felt Filip’s arms around his shoulders.  
  
“Hey… hey, c’mere, darlin’… Tha’s it, aint gonnae touch yer face, jus’… I got ye…”  
  
For a while they were just sitting there as Ron cried. Then Filip gently touched his head.  
  
“Ye’re bleeding a bit. Can I have a look, darlin’?”  
  
Ron just nodded, because what did it matter? He hissed as his boyfriend touched his scalp again.  
  
“Doesn’t need stitches but… Christ…  Yer hair, baby, yer lovely hair… An’ yer cat… What kind of greasy scumbag does something like this?”  
“A very jealous one.”  
“Ye’re expecting him back tonight?”  
“No. He’s… he’s probably out drinking. After the game. Filip, I told him I’m done, I thought he… Hasn’t even tried to call me and when I came home tonight he…”  
  
Sobs broke his voice, he was hickuping and snotty, but Filip held him.  
  
“He waited for me, must’ve used tools… hiding in the kitchen with the scissor and… God, my lil’ Leah…”  
“We gotta leave this place now.”  
“I can’t, I don’t know where to go an’ he’s gonna come back an’…”  
“Listen to me, Ronea. _We_ are leaving, not _ye_. I’ll tell ye what we’re gonnae do. First, I’ll get ye some ice for yer head an’ then, I’ll call my friends Bobby an’ Tig, to come over here. While we’re waiting for them, I’ll help ye pack.”  
“Are you crazy, man?! For real, you’re getting your biker buddies over here to save the pussy fag and his dead cat?”  
“No, I’m gonnae get two o’ my closest friends here, to help their _aerach**_ friend getting his baby safely home an’ away from a rotten bastard.”  
“You plan on sending some mechanics onto him? Jesus, Filip… He’s a fucking giant! What kind of bad action movie do you think this is?”  
“Trust me, Tig an’ Bobby aint movie material an’ not exactly small either. They’re the real deal. Now lemme get ye some ice, lovey.”  
  
Half an hour later, Ron was sitting in the backseat of a car and had his bags in the trunk. He had Leah’s tiny body in a shoebox on his lap, a wet strip around his head and Filip’s arm around his shoulders. They didn’t talk, neither did the man in the frontseat, and Ron tried not to cry. Filip’s leather cut wasn’t a good tissue.  
  
It seemed like hours until they finally came to the place where, apparantly, Filip’s biker friends used to bury their pets and Ron felt strangely touched when the two guys he didn’t know, started digging up a new grave for Leah. The one named Tig who’d driven Filip’s bike, even carved in her name on a stick and that’s when Ron was unable to keep from crying. Filip just held him until it was time to put the little bundle in the soil and as Ron sobbed while laying her down, Tig sighed.  
  
“Man, I’m sorry. My baby girl is right over there.”  
  
Ron looked at Filip.  
  
“T’is where we bury our pets, lovey. Our lil’ MC club, ye know. Tig’s dog Missy, German Shepherd, was hit by a car.”  
  
Boddy nodded.  
  
“This place is for club members’, our families’ and friends’ pets. Sorry for your loss.”  
“Thanks.”  
  
The big, beardy man didn’t comment on Ron’s looks or anything else and Tig, who had curly hair and several large rings on his hand, gave a what was supposed to be a friendly pat on his shoulder, but Ron curled into himself, couldn’t stand being touched by anyone but Filip and his lover placed a small kiss on his forehead.  
  
“Gotta say goodbye to her now, darlin’. Need to get ye home.”  
“Home where?”  
“To me of course, ye muppet. He aint gonnae touch ye again, ever. I swear.”  
  
***  
  
Ronea had had a shower and was sitting on Filip’s unmade bed, wearing a pair of sweats, a tanktop showing off several bruises and, which somehow felt worse, lots and lots of self-inflicted scars. They looked new, but Filip couldn’t focus on them now, making his darling feel bad about them too. More self-hatred was the last thing he needed now.  
  
“How are ye holdin’ up, lovey?”  
“I’m okay. Thank you. And your friends… they didn’t have to…”  
  
Ronea’s voice died off and Filip sat down next to him. The bed was far too small for two grown men, especially if one of them was beaten. He looked at what was left of his lover’s hair, wanted to tell him how beautiful he was, with or without it, but he couldn’t. Not with Ronea’s pride and life shattered. It would only make him feel worse.  
  
“Ye want a drink, baby?”  
“I… I guess I could use one.”  
“Scotch fine? Don’ think I have anything else.”  
“Lots of ice, please. If you’ve got any.”  
“Of course.”  
  
Mixing oxys with liqor usually wasn’t something Filip liked doing, but this was a special occasion. A certain person had just went from abusive arsehole to quarry, because this was Filip’s own, sweet baby Ronea and that meant bloody retribution. Literally. His baby needed that extra help to doze off and there was absolutely no way he’d go back to the ER now.  
  
Ronea eagerly emptied the drink in one go and held his glass out.  
  
“Please, just keep it coming, Filip. I’ll buy you a new one.”  
  
Maybe Filip should’ve said no, but he’d just helped burying his lover’s cat and wrapped more useless strips around his scalp, along with a beanie to keep them in place. He refilled Ronea’s glass, because what else could he do right now? They’d not been together for that long, but he knew his skittish lover well enough to realise there would be no serious talking tonight. Pointing out that Filip was more than happy to share his entire supply of scotch with him without a nickle in return would be out of place too now.  
  
Ronea’s stupid cotton beanie made him look like a teenager, but Filip guessed being 21 wasn’t always that far from a teen when it came to looks. He was 25 himself and between his scars and Ronea’s dead cat, bruised face and forced haircut, Filip didn’t exactly feel young and carefree right now. He loved this man, loved him to bits already, and as much as Filip wanted to rage, curse and make plans of retribution, Ronea needed stability now, not more chaos.  
  
When his boyfriend held his empty glass out for the third time, Filip shook his head.  
  
“No more now, darlin’. We should try an’ get some sleep.”  
  
He’d fully expected Ronea to simply grab the bottle and refill his glass himself, but the man’s gaze turned a little heavy and almost soft, as if he’d not realised what a bad idea a third glass would be and was grateful for direction. Then he put it down.  
  
They went to sleep on Filip’s bed-settee, which could be made big enough for two and Ronea curled up beside him in his pants and tanktop. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, considering how sore his lover was, but the alternatives all felt worse.  
  
Filip had spooned him as gentle as possible, as if the man was made of glass, and several times that night, Ronea would wake up crying from nightmares or pain, but always getting calmer when realising Filip was there. And Filip would whisper sweet, soothing words, promising protection and reassuring his newly found baby how much he loved him. What he didn’t whisper, was everything he wanted to do to Ronea’s ex. Filip hadn’t allowed himself to cry until dawn, when he felt his beloved was finally asleep.  
  
***  
  
“Hey, darlin’…”  
“Hey… baby…”  
  
He was sore, hadn’t actually slept much and his face felt sticky. But he wasn’t alone. The man next to him was facing him, the floppy hair a bit tangled and Ronea reached a hand out, carefully tucking it behind the ear. His lover used to keep it hanging loosely over his ears, to hide the scars a bit but the Glasgow smile had never bothered Ronea. In a way, fucked up as it felt, he’d miss them if they by some kind of magic would disappear.  
  
His lover’s eyes looked reddish and Ronea swallowed.  
  
“You’ve been crying…”  
“Aye.”  
“Why?”  
  
It was an honest question, Ronea really didn’t understand. Filip stroke his cheek.  
  
“Found out tha’ some goddamn animal attacked my chavie* an’ I wasn’t there to protect him.”  
“Wasn’t your fault, Filip.”  
“Didn’t say it was, lovey. Doesn’t stop me from bawling my bloody eyes out, though. Cannae tell me not to care, or feel.”  
  
His boyfriend sighed, biting his lip.  
  
“I love ye, Ronea. I… _really_ love ye an’ the thought of someone… anyone, ever hurting ye again… Baby, please, let me… Jus’ let me help ye. Cannae just stand an’ watch, I just cannae…”  
“I… I love you too, Filip, but… Look at me, baby, I’m a fucking mess. It’s not fair, you know… to you.”  
“Me? Not fair to _me_? Ronea, do ye hear yerself, love? Right now, I couldna care any fucking less ‘bout how messy ye are or not. _I love ye_ an’ while I’ll give ye all the time an’ space ye need, or accept if ye don’ wan’ me anymore, jus’ walking out on ye aint gonnae happen. Ye hear tha’, lovey?”  
“This is my shit to handle.”  
“Aye, an’ I’ll help ye. I can handle this too, baby, I can handle ye _and_ yer shite. No one’s ever gonnae lay a fucking hand on ye again. I swear, baby, I bloody swear it…”  
  
_*Scottish slang for boyfriend_  
_**gay in Irish_  
  
**Charming, Present day**  
  
Ronea Telford-Tully kept kneading his baby boy’s back, forcing the painful yet in a way precious memory away while doing the same with Juice’s knots. Still, after more than twenty years, it made him sad and grateful, because ever since that night on Filip’s bed-settee, the man had kept that promise. Through good, bad and rightdown awful days, his husband had been there, refusing to admit defeat, fighting both inner demons and human assholes, completely convinced that Ronea was the love of his life.  
  
He’d been close when Ronea needed it, kept his distance when it was necessary, supporting, holding, carrying and learning when to take control and when to step back. Always protective, never possessive and with his firm love and kindness, slowly helping Ronea to build up enough strenght, so that he could let go of the destructive control and allow himself to bend only by his own free will and no one elses.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papi and baby boy grooming time :D

“Okay, which one should I have, baby boy?”  
“Honestly, Papi, they all look the same to me…”  
  
Papi gave him a look that made Juice grin. He had absolutely no experience of nail polish but this was surprisingly fun. Papi chose one of the small bottles from his large box and handed to him.  
  
“Now make me pretty, baby boy.”  
“You already are, Papi.”  
“Flatterer.”  
  
Juice opened the tiny bottle and Papi laid out his hands on the table. This was an extremely weird way of spending an afternoon, at least to Juice. Not that he complained and yes, he was used to and actually liked Papi with nail polish, but this felt a little weird. Girlish.  
  
“Papi, why are you… I mean, what’s the point?”  
“I quite like it, baby boy. My nails mostly look terrible without, so why not make the best of it? Besides, it relaxes me.”  
“Oh.”  
  
Well, that was something Juice could understand. Not why nail polish of all things could have that effect, but he wasn’t one to question Papi’s coping mechanisms. Whatever worked for him. Besides, it felt nice to do something for Papi, even if it was just nail polish.  
  
Papi’s finger nails were short clipped like Juice’s own, but much more well-kept. No sore cuticles, cracked nails or rough skin. Juice didn’t work full-time as a mechanic, it was merely a hobby albeit one he spent a lot of time doing, but his nails sure showed signs of it. Painting Papi’s nails was a bit difficult, simply because Juice had never done it before.  
  
“I’m getting you all messy, Papi.”  
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got nail polish remover as well.”  
  
He smirked and Juice giggled.  
  
“Of couse you do, Papi. How often do you do this?”  
“It depends. Generally, I have a proper foot bath once a week, when I use zink sulfate to soften up for about fifteen minutes. Then I use a pumice stone to get rid of callosities on soles and pads. After that, I trim my foot nails, using a clipper and a nail file and when that’s all done, I rinse, dry properly and use a foot cream to moisturize. Nail polish is the finishing touch.”  
  
Juice knew he must look baffled, because Papi gave his teasing laugh.  
  
“I’m a vain man, baby boy. And taking care of my body is part of my weekly routine as much as cooking and cleaning.”  
“You’re doing it for Daddy?”  
“Yes and no. A little bit less polish, sweetheart. Brush it off some against the brim. Yeah, that’s better. About Daddy and my beauty routine, it’s partly for him, because he deserves a husband who takes good care of himself. That only extends to health stuff, though. He’d never require of me to wear make-up, nail polish or dress a certain way. If I’m not comfortable with how I look, then Daddy wont be comfortable either. It goes in both directions, of course. You understand what I mean?”  
“Think so, Papi.”  
  
Papi took a sip of his drink and nodded. They were sitting under the large parasol in the backyard, safe away from the sun that really wasn’t Papi’s best friend.   
  
“One of Daddy’s rules, is that I will have to look after myself, remember? I can’t just skip things that are good for me, simply because I don’t feel like doing them. I may not always _like_ grooming myself, because honestly I get bored after a while, but once I’m done, I feel better.”  
“So… it’s about being pretty for Daddy?”  
“Baby boy, I could walk around in mismatched sweats and washed-out tanktops, down-bitten nails and greasy hair all week and your Daddy would still think I’m pretty. No, my love, this isn’t about a beauty standard, it’s a tool to help me stress down and learn to be nice to my body a bit more. Papi has hurt his body quite a lot over the years and Daddy decided that one of the ways I’d work with that, would be to treat myself in a way that’s benefitial for my health.”  
  
Juice threw an exasperated look at the not too smoothe finger nail painting.  
  
“How’s nail polish good for _anyones_ health?”  
  
Papi chuckled.  
  
“You’re just like your Daddy. C’mon, baby boy, you’re doing a good job and Papi is feels good.”  
“True… But we’re not painting mine, right?”  
“You’d want me to?”  
“Uhm, no, thanks, Papi.”  
“I think what you actually meant there, was more of a _no way in hell, Papi_. Which, as I probably should point out, is an absolutely reasonable response when said as politely as you just did.”  
  
Juice blushed and took to the other hand.  
  
“Does… does Daddy do this for you, too?”  
“No, but sometimes he’ll brush my hair or give me foot rubs. A good incentive for me to keep myself pleasant for him to touch. Don’t want him to get all stinky dead skin on him when he’s doing something nice to me. He’s helping me wax though.”  
“You mean… like…?”  
“Like my ass, baby boy. Of course, I could go to a salon, but I really don’t like other people touching me. Except for my dear husband and beautiful Juicyboy.”  
“I… I don’t like being touched either, Papi. Except, you know…”  
  
Papi gave him a serious look.  
  
“No one’s obligated to like being touched by every son of a bitch and his mom, sweetheart. We have the right to set our own boundaries, you know. Can’t stand people who don’t respect other’s bodies and boundaries. There’s a reason why your Daddy and I always want to be sure you’re comfortable, baby boy.”  
  
Juice blushed again and then Papi gave the kind of smile that used to make Juice’s legs weak.  
  
“As you know, I’m not solely submissive, Juice. Daddy is the love of my life, but I have needs he can’t fulfill, just as he’s got his little wants and whishes I’m not fit to provide him with. Spending time with another man that relishes in being my baby boy, fills a need your Daddy can’t.”  
“And… uhm… what about Daddy, then?”  
“What about him, love?”  
“Well… if I fill one of your needs, Papi, then what am I to Daddy?”  
“His sunshine, baby boy. His absolute sunshine.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filip is shopping ;)

_Fifty Shades of Grey._ Filip looked at the book with a face that, had he seen himself, was nothing but pure disgust. He’d heard of it, of course, and although him and Ronea rarely went clubbing, he could well imagine the tone of contempt this sad piece of shite had received in their circles. Bored, inexperienced housewives mistaking abuse for proper BDSM and poorly written as well. Ronea had given it a try just out of curiosity and actually thrown it in the trash can, which meant Filip felt zero need for trying himself. His husband’s word was more than enough of a guideline when it came to books.  
  
Filip rarely went shopping – food, of course, was a big no-no – but things like clothes and gifts. He didn’t like noisy malls, the music and people drove him crazy and things were always scattered and bloody impossible to find. As a remedy for that, he used earplugs and a well-structured shopping list whenever he had to make an errend that didn’t include anything with vehicles or liqor.  
  
What he did like to buy, was gifts for Ronea. Filip’s husband loved to read and it had become a challenge to find out what he hadn’t already read. Today Filip didn’t have to look though, since he’d already ordered a new book called _Roses Without Chemicals_ , to encourage Ronea’s love for gardening and particularly, his roses. Since he didn’t want to spoil surprises by ordering them online and have Ronea discover them in the mail, Filip used to make his bargins through the bookshop in the mall and have the owner, Fred, order them for him so he could pick them up.   
  
He went to the register line, waiting for his turn and Fred, who was a rather boisterous, tubby man in his sixties, grinned widely.  
  
“Filip, I thought I might see you around today!”  
“Hey, Fred. How are ye doin’?”  
“Good. Good. Not a lot of costumers this week and then today… boom, I’ve rarely had time to grab a coffee.”  
“Businesses going well, then.”  
“Yeah, yeah. You know, despite Amazon and Netflix and I know not all, somehow I’m still standing.”  
“Some people still appreciate good service, Fred. How’s yer old lady doin’?”  
“Oh, you know Maggie, she’s all about the grandkids and her church group. She’s up and running all the time now, since the doc took her off the crutches.”  
“Aye, rather nasty accident, wasn’t it?”  
“It was! Hiking in the woods, planned on a nice Sunday trip, you know. One moment, the missus and I were listening to birds and bam, there was this hunting trap, some idiot putting up this, pardon my language, goddamn steel wire and in the next moment, there she lies, broken ancle and a nasty cut wound.”  
  
Filip shook his head.  
  
“What kind of people would do such a thing?”  
“The missus still thinks it’s kids, but I’m certain it’s one of them poachers, you know.”  
“Aye, it could be.”  
“Speaking of missuses, how’s Roney?”  
“He’s fine, but it’s still Ronea, Fred.”  
  
Fred held his hands up.  
  
“I _never_ learn, Filip. You’ve come to my shop for, what is it, fifteen years now and I still can’t get it right. Really, it’s embarressing.”  
  
Filip smiled.  
  
“As long as ye help me get the books he wants, I’m quite happy to remind ye o’ my old man’s name once a month or so. What do I owe ye?”  
“That’d be $17, please. Regular customer’s discount, you know.”  
“Thanks, Fred.”  
  
Filip paid for the book and Fred put it in the familiar paper bag.  
  
“You know, Maggie’s still a bit… well, lets just say she is who she is…”  
“A wee bit apprehensive? It’s only been fifteen years, so I cannae blame her.”  
  
Fred rose his eyebrows at the joke.  
  
“She still thinks it’s the goddamn fifties, Filip, and there’s nothing I can do, as it seems, to change that.”  
“Well, if she thinks it’s the fifties, shouldn’t she let her old man make the final decisions? If she likes ol’ times tha’ much.”  
  
Now the shop keeper laughed.   
  
“Boy, I’d like to tell her that, but I don’t have a death wish! Bet your man would chase you out of the house as well if you made that suggestion.”  
  
 Filip made a small, cheeky smile.  
  
“My husband is a very reasonable man, Fred. Just give’im his roses and some nice wine to his roasted chicken an’ keep outta the kitchen, an’ he’s happy.”  
“Ronea’s making you his roasted chicken tonight? The _special_ chicken?”  
“Aye.”  
  
Fred groaned.  
  
“Sweet Jesus, that man’s chicken… It’s almost like the one my mom used to make. You’re a cruel man, Filip, for telling me this when all I’m getting tonight, is a plate of leftover lasagna. Is there any way you could have Roney, sorry Ronea, make one for me in exchange for some special book offer?”  
  
Filip chuckled.  
  
“Tell ye what, Fred. I’ll ask him.”  
“Can’t you just tell him? I mean, since he’s so reasonable…?”  
“Sorry, ol’ friend, but the kitchen aint my area. Can make requests, but tha’s about it.”  
“So you bribe him with books to get his chicken?”  
“Oh, no. This aint bribery, this is jus’ a gift for no reason.”  
  
He winked at the shop keeper.   
  
“Ronea will make me tha’ chicken anyway.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Daddy and Papi deal with an angsty, horny and frightened baby boy...

“Hey, darlin’.”  
“Hey, baby.”  
  
Juice wasn’t sure if it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d convinced Papi to allow him to help peeling the potatos for dinner and they’d been in the kitchen for a little while when Daddy came home.  
  
The moment Papi heard the door, he stopped stirring the sauce, wiped his hands and when Daddy entered the kitchen, Papi greeted him with a hug that looked like the _thank God, you’re back_ kind, more than a _welcome home_ one. The safety, the guardian had returned home and things fell into place again. Juice had seen it happen lots of times and he knew he wasn’t actually intruding because if his daddies wanted privacy, they would wait with whatever it was they wanted to keep just between the two of them, but it still felt very private.  
  
A sliver of, not jealousy, but more like alienation, hit Juice and he turned around, as if he’d been caught peeping and the inner voice his daddies almost silenced for now, got air and started screaming.  
  
_You don’t belong. You’re just a guest and now you’re repaying their kindness by peeping at things you’re not a part of.  
  
Selfish, rude, pathetic enough to think you have any right to take part. Standing there, staring at a party you’ve clearly not been intivited to, making the rightful participants uncomfortable with your unacceptable, self-centred begging for attention.  
  
Stop looking, stop demanding things that aren’t for you. Stop intruding on other’s privacy, you fucking punk. You should be ashamed of yourself, a grown ass man, looking like that...  
  
_ “Where’s ma lil’ one? Wannae hug both ma boys… Juicyboy?”  
  
Juice still had his back onto them and he was tense as Daddy touched his shoulder.  
  
“If ye don’ _want_ a hug, lovey, tha’s perfectly alright too, ye know.”  
  
A small sound escaped Juice as he, without looking, turned around and leaned into the man. Daddy’s arms went around him and then Papi came from behind, hugging both of them with Juice in the middle. Daddy’s whiskers scraped softly against his neck.  
  
“Ye’re _never_ supposed to feel left out, lil’ one. If we didn’t want ye to be with us, ye wouldn’t be here at all. When we’re all together, _especially_ in this house where we can be ourselves all the way, we’re a _unit_ , Juicy. We’re not leaving anyone out of this union for _any_ reason. We love each other in a lil’ bit different ways, aye, but I can assure ye, tha’ yer Papi and I don’ love ye any less.”  
“God no, baby boy… Oh, sweetheart, those nasty thoughts came back again, didn’t they?”  
“Ye’re safe here, lovey, we love ye so much, Juicyboy. No shame, no fear, lil’ one… Ye belong here with us, alright?”  
“And you’re allowed to feel things, Juice. If you feel unable to talk about what you feel, that’s okay too, we’re not forcing each other to talk, because that’s not we work things out here. The only thing that’s required is that we all, in our own ways and according to our chosen rolls, are willing to receive help and guidance.”  
  
Being cuddled like this, supported from all sides while his Daddies spoke lovingly to him, slowly but steadily forced the hollowness and shame away. He was their baby boy. They’d accepted, no, _asked_ him to join them, to become a part of their relationship and strictly organized, yet so loving and accepting way of living. He wasn’t intruding, or trapped – he was included.  
  
He could feel his lovers hardening, Papi against his ass, Daddy against his groin and then, Daddy gently turned his head to kiss his lad, not the usual soft peck, but a real one, while Papi was nuzzling his neck.  
  
Daddy’s kisses had an almost harsh, masculine taste of scotch, black coffee and the occasional smoke he still allowed himself every once in a while, usually when he’d made an errand downtown. Juice felt himself be consumed by it, the angry and scornful voices inside his messy mind had no chance in hell against this much welcome and longed for attack on his senses. Simultaneously, he could feel Papi’s gentle nibbling onto his neck, teeth scraping and tongue sweeping along his skin and Juice whimpered.  
  
Papi leaned over to his ear and rubbed up against him.  
  
“Feeling this, baby boy? You think Papi would be hard for someone he didn’t want? Think your Daddy would _allow_ that? That he’d let his man be even _close_ to someone he didn’t approve?”  
  
Juice couldn’t form anything even close to an actual word now, only pant against the crook of Daddy’s neck.  
  
“No one touches my husband without my permission, Juicyboy… An’ he’s not touching anyone either. Tha’ arse is _mine_ and mine alone, laddie, an’ _I_ decide if, when an’ with whom he’ll be allowed to use his cock.  _I_ decide if he can get his big cock wet, but he’s not fucking anyone, is he, laddie?”  
“N-no, Daddy.”  
“No, he’s not… I do the fucking in this house, lil’ one, an’ if ye’re a good boy, maybe I’ll fuck ye tonight with his cock.”  
“Daddy!”  
“God’s sake, Filip, your husband and baby boy aren’t locked up.”  
  
Daddy chuckled.  
  
“Well, that’s obviously something I’ll have to remedy before we eat. Bedroom, now, both o’ ye.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locks and keys...

Papi watching him getting locked up was hard enough. Watching Daddy locking _Papi_ up, was teasing bordering on torture. Papi was sitting on the bed and, in a way that seemed strangely submissive, Daddy was kneeling before him. It should look wrong, but it didn’t. Papi widened his long legs and leaned back onto his hands, supporting himself on the bed as Daddy unbuttoned his pants and gently pulled the man’s cock out of the tight lycra panties.  
  
“Any chafing, lovey?”  
“No, Filip.”  
“Good.”  
  
Juice almost choked as he saw Daddy bend forward to give a small kiss just above the base, but Papi didn’t make a sound, nor did he move. The man was laying there, seemingly without any need to look at his husband’s hands or control anything. He didn’t talk, move or whine, just waited in absolute trust and patience for his dominant husband to do whatever he deemed necessary.  
  
In a way, it felt close to a ritual, but still not. It wasn’t a game or theatrical either, absolutely not, but rather very ordinary. Serious, yes, but not ceremonial in any way. Papi had a hand on Daddy’s hair, as if the man was going down on him, but the touch wasn’t possessive, nor demanding. It didn’t push or grab, just leaned, very lightly.  
  
It was mesmerising, seeing how Daddy coated Papi’s cock with lotion, knowing exactly how to not increase the erection or make it uncomfortable. This wasn’t a master tying up his pet, nor a dominant lover shifting to a submissive pose, this was adoration and in a heartbeat Juice knew, he just _knew_ , that his lovers hadn’t shared _this_ with anyone before. He could see it in the way Papi searched for Daddy’s eyes, how Daddy met his gaze, held him there, safe and anchored. They didn’t need words, just eyes and hands. The kneeling wasn’t bending of their roles, but a husband showing gratitude for the trust he was shown. It was fucking beautiful.  
  
Juice wasn’t sure how long it took until Daddy tucked Papi’s half-hard cock back into his pants and finished by leaning onto his stomach, nuzzling him for a moment in silence before turning to Juice. Papi smiled. Not his teasing one, but one that was full of something very close to the adoration Daddy had just shown him. A relieved, lighthearted and low-key happiness. _See, I’m safe now, baby boy. Daddy’s carrying me and now you’ll be carried too._ _You see, my love, how easy it can be to let go?_ _To dedicate yourself, to give and take without shame or fear…_   
  
If the moment between Daddy and Papi had been very intimate, with Juice as an invited spectator yet not participant, Juice’s was shared by all three of them, but with him in the absolute centre. He was the baby boy, not a husband, and while Daddy was the one doing the actual locking, Papi had crawled back behind Juice to hold him. Papi was still hard, of course, but as Daddy carefully secured Juice, it wasn’t a problem anymore. Juice sighed in content, as he was now effectively prevented from coming and, just as Papi, had to trust Daddy to let him come when _he_ decided it was the right time. In this moment, Papi and Daddy weren’t primarly each other’s husbands, but Juice’s daddies. They, together, were his keyholders, while Daddy alone was Papi’s.  
  
The way his Daddie’s dynamics would shift so naturally between the submissive and dominant husbands to two dominant Daddies, needed no verbal directions, not between these two. Their respective roles had been there for so long, this seemed like a completely natural step, something they didn’t have to figure out.  
  
“Ye’re okay, lad?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Nothing tha’ hurts?  
“No, Daddy.”  
“Good.”  
  
Daddy buttoned the pants and then, to Juice’s great surprise, he nuzzled him the same he’d done with Papi.  
  
“Both ma pretty boys all done an’ ready.”  
  
Papi smiled against Juice’s neck.  
  
“Gotta eat dinner before we get dessert, though. And this Papi would want his husband and baby boy to go and wash up.”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
“Yes, ma’m.”  
“Excuse me, _sir_?”  
  
Papi sounded so offended it was impossible not to laugh, as did Daddy. Papi snorted playfully.  
  
“Well, _someone’s_ about to get cabbage and haggis for dinner very soon, I hear. And I suggest you two get downstairs now or there’ll be no dessert. _Ma'm_ , my ass...”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Papi brings out the world's tiniest violin at dinner table...

Food was an issue for his baby boy. Ron smiled at him, as Juice took another small, tentative mouthful and slowly relaxed again. They shared a bond on this touchy subject, and it had taken Filip quite a while to grasp the difference between his own poor upbringing in Glasgow, where you ate what was put in front of you, or you’d literally starve because that’s what maw was able to give you, and the reality of a life where food was an instrument of power and punishment.  
  
Filip knew how it felt to go hungry because there was nothing more to serve to anyone, but Ron and Juice knew how it felt to be denied food, force fed and being accused of greediness, ungratitude and general rudeness when stress or anxiety made it difficult, or even impossible, to eat. True, none of them had lived in a home where the prospect of everyone leaving the table full was an actual impossibility due to lack of money but, as Ron patiently had explained to his oblivious husband, knowing that _everyone else_ would go to bed full and content, having desserts and snacks as well, while you were sent to bed with nothing but the meager, packed school lunch in your belly until next morning because you didn’t _look_ grateful enough, didn’t exactly create a healthy approach to food.  
  
“How was it downtown, baby?”  
“Loud and noisy. Too many teens an’ wha’s with tha’ bloody so called music…”  
“You did were your earplugs, right?”  
“Aye, of course. But still.”  
  
Ron chuckled at his grouchy husband. Filip absolutely hated shopping malls.  
  
“Well, I hope the fact that you picked a very nice wine makes up a little bit for your suffering.”  
“I _did_ suffer.”  
  
Ron put his fork down and moved his right hand over his left arm.  
  
“Look, hon. Your husband is playing you the world’s saddest song on the world’s smallest violin. I mean, you’ve been forced to visit the mall at least two times in the last six months.”  
“Ye be nice, baby, or I’ll go shopping for groceries next time.”  
“Sure you wanna take that risk with your dinners, darling?”  
“I think someone here needs a spanking, and it’s not our lil’ one.”  
“Cabbage and haggis, dear husband. I’m just sayin’… Cabbage and haggis...”  
  
They were just teasing one another, there were no real threats at all and as a matter of fact, degrading to threats was something Ron and his husband hadn’t done for at least fifteen years. The problem was, as Ron discovered when he saw the horrified look on Juice’s face, their baby boy hadn’t fully grasped that part of their relationship yet.  
  
Ron laid a hand on Juice’s wrist.  
  
“Baby boy, we’re just teasing one another. Everything’s fine, my little love.”  
  
Filip put down his fork too and cocked his head slightly to catch Juice’s lowered gaze.  
  
“Hey, wha’s the matter, Juicyboy? Ye’re worried yer daddies are arguing?”  
  
Their baby boy still couldn’t look up, but there was the smallest nod and Ron nodded at his husband. Filip took the napkin from his lap, wiped his mouth and then he squatted by Juice’s chair. He reached his hand out, didn’t touch, just offered it.  
  
“Juicy? C’mon, lil’ one, look at Daddy. No? Can I take yer hand? Alright, there we go…”  
  
Juice very slowly looked up at Filip, who held his hand out and had his most gentle smile, the one that reminded Ron a lot of a time when his then boyfriend’s unremittingly efforts to keep the chaos away, was the only thing that stood a chance against the drugs and razors.  
  
Long nights when Ron’s self-hatred threatened to choke them both and the only clear part of his mind had been the absolute belief that this was it, this was the last straw and Filip would leave. In those moments, Filip hadn’t been able to reach him at all, not with love declarations or reason, tears or promises. He’d walked blindly into Ron’s darkness, just so fucking determined to find a solution, that he _could_ find it, that surrender wasn’t even a possibility.  
  
It made Ron’s heart jump just a little, when he saw how Juice moved his hands towards Filip’s, wordlessly allowing him to take them, showing trust on his own conditions, in his own pace.  
  
“Thank ye, laddie. I’m not angry, Juicy, nor is yer Papi, right lovey?”  
“Absolutely not, baby boy.”  
  
His baby boy swallowed hard, seemed to actually squeeze Filip’s hand, and that was a good sign that he was grounding himself, using his Daddy as a tool for that. Filip stroke a thumb over the back of Juice’s hand.  
  
“Ye see, little darlin’, when ye’ve been together for as long as yer daddies, ye’re pretty much guaranteed to have developed yer own little intern language. If ye haven’t, then ye probably don’ know each other well enough to have a very good marriage. When a couple claim to never tease one other, tha’s when I get _really_ suspicious.”  
  
Ron nodded.  
  
“Especially when they’ve been together for more than twenty years.”  
“Aye, wha’s it tha’ ye’re callin’ such couples, lovey?”  
“Stepford 2.0, axe murderers in the making edition. Remember when we met one of those at the club? Jesus Christ, I literally tried to run back home in my high heels.”  
  
Juice almost smiled at his shudder and Ron knew they were getting somewhere. Filip bent down to place a kiss on their baby boy’s knuckles.  
  
“Ye see, Juicy… It’s not often tha’ yer daddies are comfortable enough around someone else to act like this. Wha’ ye’re seein’, isn’t us having a fight of any sort, there are no actual threats, anger or disappointment here, jus’ two ol’ men forgetting themselves because _they_ feel so safe and free with _ye_. Ye’re safe with us, aye, but we’re also safe with ye, laddie.”  
“Maybe your daddies need to start behaving themselves better, baby boy. What do you think, Filip?”  
“Aye, maybe we do. I can spank ye, of course, but who’s gonnae spank me?”  
  
That made the trick. Juice looked up all the way now, absolutely baffled because he knew more than well that _no one_ spanked his Daddy and in the next second, the anxiety gave away for the obvious joke and their baby boy bursted out in a fit of giggles.  
  
When Juice calmed down a bit, the anxiety was gone, only leaving the inevitable tiredness. Filip had him sitting on his lap and in a way that didn’t even seem to be a tool to help their baby boy eat, Ron’s husband just took over and started to feed him. A couple of mouthfuls in, their sunshine was back, as bright as ever.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more Ronea/Filip backstory. It's not a Ron or Filip thinking about a memory in present time, but just a time stamp, really, and a sneak peek into how their journey to a dom/sub couple started. TW: self-harm.

**Lodi, 23 years earlier**  
  
“Fuck ye too! Ye’re actin’ like a bloody baby, ye know.”  
“Yeah, sure! You didn’t give a shit that I went, so you’re not getting all ‘why did you go without me’ now.”  
“It’s not about tha’ fucking festival an’ I wasn’t supposed to come with ye, ye tool! I got scared, Ronea! Ye didn’t call an’ I was worried sick! Ye were off to bloody Europe without telling me shite!”  
“So now I can’t look after myself, right? What are you, my turnkey? One moment you’re all ‘don’t let that asshole control you’ and then you’re not letting me go to a festival?”  
“Mary, Mother o’ Christ, ye just want me to get me mad at ye, don’ ye?”  
“You _are_ mad at me, Filip!”  
“No, I’m fucking relieved ye’re back an’ about as pissed at ye for not telling me! Jesus Christ, lovey, are ye _tryin’_ to make me leave ye?!”  
  
Filip stared at his boyfriend. The man was angry, messy and just fucking out of himself. It scared Filip, scared them both when it happened. Ronea looked awful, he’d lost weight and Filip was pretty sure he’d lived on booze and crackers most of the time, his food of choise whenever he wasn’t hungry. Even worse, there were new scars and Filip swallowed as Ron realised he was looking.  
  
“Why…? Lovey, _why_?”  
  
He couldn’t grasp it, he just couldn’t. It was too bizarre, Filip had never seen this kind of self-destructiveness before. Jesus Christ, he was a volunteer at the hospital every week and the rest of the time, he was a goddamn mechanic and biker. Dangerous riding or stupid fights, drunkenness ending up in bruises, that he could understand, but this?  
  
Ronea reeked, but Filip didn’t care about that right now. He sank down beside him, back onto the wall and just enough distance between them to not make the man jump. His hair that had almost grown out again, was greasy and he had dark circles under his eyes. The arms were worse, though. Completely filled with scars on pretty much every available surface, inked as well as white. Too many to even count and a lot of them had started to scab.  
  
Filip tried to think. Yelling didn’t work, he knew that, had learned the hard way that his baby would just answer in kind and shut himself off, unreachable sometimes for days. Clearly, that was what he expected now. For Filip to stay mad and frustrated, walk out and slam the door behind him so that Ronea could sit and hate himself alone until they both were able to pretend it wasn’t gonna happen again. Filip would have none of it this time.  
  
“Ye still have tha’ antiseptic an’ gauze I gave ye?”  
  
A nod.  
  
“Bathroom cabinet?”  
  
Another nod.  
  
Filip rose from the floor, went to the bathroom and looked through his boyfriend’s toiletries until he found all he needed. He went back to Ronea, who hadn’t moved but only stared blankly before him. Filip sat down, put on a pair of disposable gloves and prepared a wad with saline. Ronea didn’t even look at him, he still seemed almost unattached to himself and the now. Not psychotic in any sense, just so completely miserable.  
  
“Gonnae sting a bit, lovey.”  
  
Had it been anyone else, Filip would’ve done it without the warning because cutting yourself was _fucked up_ and if people wanted to hurt themselves, he wouldn’t waste gentlesness on them, but his was his Ronea and Filip loved him more than he’d ever thought himself capable of. And he wouldn’t fuel on his baby’s self-hatred by saying that he deserved the sting.  
  
“Ye have any plastic film?”  
“Why?”  
“Ye need a shower an’ getting’ the bandages wet is a shitty idea.”  
“Not taking a shower now, Filip.”  
“Aye, ye are, baby. ‘Cause ye smell like shite an’ pukes. Ye’ve not been eatin’, have ye?”  
  
Ronea just shrugged. That meant a _no_. Filip sighed.  
  
“I’ll see if ye have soup cans or something.”  
“Why are you so… fucking _nice_ to me?”  
“Cause I have to.”  
“No, you don’t! I’m not forcing you to do shit, Filip!”  
“No, ye don’t, but I still have to. I love ye, ye know.”  
“Please, don’t say that…”  
“I love ye, Ronea.”  
“Stop…”  
“Love ye so fucking much, ye bloody muppet. An’ ye gotta stop telling me to walk out on ye, ‘cause tha’ aint gonnae happen unless ye don’ wan’ me anymore.”  
“How do you know I wanted you to begin with?”  
  
Filip swallowed. The miserable creature on the floor truly looked like something the cat had dragged in, and yes, he was self-hating, stubborn and fucking impossible to be with, but for some reason it didn’t matter. Filip finished wrapping the gauze.  
  
“Well… Cannae say I know tha’, as in knowing exactly how ye feel an’ all tha’, but… Ronea, ‘s been a year an’… an’ I wan’ ye more than ever. If ye don’ wan’ me, than… tell me, ‘cause I aint gonnae force myself onto ye. I… I’d hoped ye’d see tha’ I’m better than tha’. Better than _him_.”  
  
There was a sigh and then Ronea started crying. It came so suddenly, it actually seemed to surprise him as much as it did Filip. His first instinct, was to pull his boyfriend into a hug, but unlike certain scumbags, Filip had some fucking control of himself and he just took Ronea’s hand.  
  
“Can’t… can’t handle this, Filip. And you’re never gonna handle _me_ without getting all fucked up yourself.”  
“Oh, aye? Try me, lovey. Aint seeing a fuck-up when I look at ye, baby. I see a scrappy, stubborn lil’ bastard who just need to learn tha’ I’m not lying to’im. Or myself. C’mon, Ronea, ye should know by now tha’ scars wont scare _me_. An’ ye’re reeking an’ all now, but ye’re still the goddamn hottest and bonniest wee muppet I know.”  
“What the fuck does that even _mean_?!”  
“Tha’ I better make ye a bloody dictionary so we can argue successfully.”  
  
But Ronea didn’t want to argue. Not anymore. He just cried now, exhausted and frayed and just so lost. The sobs were simply heartbreaking and Filip scooted closer and opened his arms.  
  
“Can I hold ye, lovey?”  
  
The man curled up to a ball in his arms and Filip very gently had him leaning onto his chest, nuzzling the still too short hair.  
  
“Careful with yer arms, Ronea.”  
“St-stop…”  
“With wha’, baby?”  
“Being so… nice to me.”  
“No chance in hell, muppet.”  
  
He stroke his baby’s neck.  
  
“C’mon, lovey. Ye’re getting a shower now.”  
  
It wasn’t a suggestion, because Ronea clearly couldn’t make any decisions in this moment. He needed someone to hold onto and with the gentle order, Ronea actually seemed to relax a little. Filip kissed the greasy hair.  
  
“Get yer clothes off, baby, while I get the plastic film.”  
  
Firm, yet soft voice. Slow and predictable movements. A clear purpose, no matter how small. All those things seemed to relax his baby, Filip mused as he got the plastic film. Ronea had undressed, even putting his dirty clothes in the laundry basket when he came back. Except for the cuts, there were no bruises or wounds and while wrapping up the gauze, Filip sent a silent prayer of thanks to whatever higher power that had managed to keep his baby away from fist fights, at least.  
  
“There. Now, take tha’ shower while I look for tha’ soup can.”  
“Stay.”  
  
Ronea grabbed his hand, but didn’t look at him.  
  
“Please? Don’t trust myself being… naked right now.”  
  
His baby sounded scared and for a moment, Filip was confused, but then he understood. Ronea hadn’t showered yet because was afraid he’d scratch himself and despite the shame and self-hatred, he actually asked Filip for help now.  
  
Filip squeezed his hand.  
  
“I’ll help ye wash yer hair, alright?”  
  
Ronea nodded and so Filip chucked his clothes off and lead his boyfriend into the shower. They’d showered together before, of course, but this wasn’t like other times. There were no sweat and cum. No breathy smiles or flushed cheeks, only pain and weariness. Filip was extremely gentle while washing his baby, but Ronea still tensed.  
  
“Too hard?”  
“Too fucking loose.”  
“Huh?”  
  
Ronea sighed.  
  
“You’re touching me like you’re not sure if you can and that makes me fucking nervous, Filip. Just… be _you_ , please? I need _you_.”  
  
The emphasy was clear enough and Filip changed his movements. He was still careful, still very much aware of soreness and cuts, but he used a much more firm and determined hand and instead of hurting his baby, it seemed to relax him. Ronea had stopped crying and even leaned onto him again, not in a clingy or horny way, but as if Filip was the only one to keep him grounded.  
  
“You should spank me, baby…”  
“What?”  
“C’mon, you heard me.”  
  
They’d done it once before. Very playful, all smiles and yes, Filip had liked it. He’d liked the way Ronea looked over his lap, how his arse had gotten that nice, pink glow and his baby had liked it too, but it hadn’t felt like _them_. Playing games just wasn’t their thing and it had felt a bit weird afterwards.  
  
Filip shook his head.  
  
“No.”  
“Why?”  
“Why? ‘Cause ye’re a bloody mess right now an’ from wha’ I remember, it wasn’t our thing.”  
“Not as some fucking foreplay, Filip. I… please don’t make this harder for me, ‘cause it’s… not easy to ask this…”  
“This is… Baby, even if I wanted to, an’ I’m not sure ‘bout tha’ either, ye’re not fit for it. Jus’ shifting focuse from one pain to another is a bad idea right now.”  
  
Ronea sighed. It seemed like he both did and didn’t know what he wanted – or needed – and was just searching mindlessly for something to keep him steady. The lack of security made him skittish and boundless, as if the freedom of choosing wasn’t a freedom at all, but simply a burden that kept wearing him down instead of strenghten him.  
  
Filip kept washing him and when he was done, he turned the shower off and draped a towel around the confused and exhausted man. He looked so lost, so vulnerable and Filip just couldn’t stand it.  
  
“Ronea?”  
“Yes?”  
“I’m not… downright dismissing it, alright. Spankin’ ye. But… I’m not _promisin’_ anything an’ I’ll need for us to think about it for a while first, okay? Also, ye cannae keep cutting yerself, or jus’ leave without telling me, ‘cause I was worried sick, baby. An’ I sure as hell aint gonnae do it if ye’re ill or have bruises and shite. No bloody wounds, ye hear tha’?”  
“Yes. That… sounds good to me.”  
  
Ronea smiled. It was as if his self-hatred had, not gone away, but been locked up somewhere.  
  
“Filip?”  
“Aye, lovey?”  
“What will you do if I do something like his again?”  
  
Twenty minutes ago, the question would’ve frustrated Filip. He would’ve seen it as a way for Ronea to try and make him hurt or leave him. Prove that he didn’t love him, which he fucking did. But something had changed, Filip wasn’t sure what, but he was ready to give it a try.  
  
He took Ronea’s face between his hands and leaned their foreheads together.  
  
“Then, baby, I’ll do whatever ye need to be convinced tha’ I aint gonnae leave ye alone with it, or accept it. My chavie gotta bloody respect himself, an’ me, ye hear tha’, lovey? Tha’s not negotiable.”  
  
Ronea didn’t answer, but the bloodshot, weary eyes weren’t scared, angry or anxious anymore. He looked calm. Exhausted and messy, yes, but completely calm. Where more than a year of stepping back and giving his boyfriend some space had lead to endless encounters of fall-outs, slammed doors, yelling and self-harm, stepping in and making a final decision for him worked.  
  
Filip wasn’t sure if this was a good thing, neither the fact that he got so relieved himself from his lover’s sudden submissiveness. Right now, all that mattered was to get Ronea some clean clothes on and something to eat. They could deal with the rest of this mess later.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Marple's "The Panty Mystery" or "seriously-what-the-hell-am-I-writing"...

As inexperienced as Juice had been with BDSM a few months ago, it still sometimes surprised him how absolutely different his daddies were from his initial idea of a dom/sub couple, not to mention what people without any experience at all thought about it. Their special form of marriage was also quite unusual, at least in some parts of the BDSM community, since it wasn’t restricted to the bedroom or a club.  
  
Papi’s obedience and Daddy’s ruling required a lot more than safe words to work out in a way that gave them what they needed. And it was about so much more than the sex. It was a kink, yes, but not nearly as much as it was their natural way of giving and receiving love. It was almost old-fashion in a way, with Daddy being the courting gentleman and Papi the blushing maiden. Most couples, Juice figured, would’ve been way past that part of a relationship after twenty years, but not his daddies. In a very curious manner, it seemed as if they knew each other completely, yet still were trying to figure the other one out.  
  
Time was important too. His daddies could be almost ferocius in bed, but preparation was 90% of the fun. Juice had seen Daddy fuck Papi like an unleashed mad dog in missionary position, with Papi literally wailing underneath him, lost to the world and desperately tugging at the sheets to stop himself from scratching his husband’s back bloody. Papi had watched Daddy fuck Juice, holding him close and whisper every dirty word in the dictionary to him, but the keyword was always control. Not Juice’s or Papi’s, but Daddy’s. Daddy made the decision, he knew what his boys needed and would give it to them. It was Daddy who decided when it was time to give and receive and as frustrating as it could be, Juice had started to appreciate that more and more. Especially since the one Daddy controlled more than anyone, was himself. His control was all about listening.  
  
Right now, all three of them were sitting by the telly, watching _Miss Marple_ because Papi was a fucking dork, Daddy loved to indulge him and in turn, those two things combined made Juice weirdly happy, so it was a win-win-win.  
  
They made a very domestic picture, Juice thought, and it was a really nice way of spending a Saturday night, despite how boring and fucking middle-class it would’ve sounded to him a few months ago. They each had a drink; Daddy the usual Scotch with ice, Papi sipped on his Absinthe drip coctail and Juice was nursing a Campari orange. He rarely made or ordered that himself, feeling it wasn’t… manly enough, or something. Stupid as shit, of course, but whenever he was out drinking with the club or some friends, Juice knew the safest bet was to order something that didn’t draw any attention to himself. Here there were no such boundaries. No labels being put on you without your consent.  
  
One drink, no more. Juice had never appreciated having anyone telling him how much he could or couldn’t drink – who did? – but here it didn’t make him feel overruled or humiliated. These rules didn’t just apply to him, but to Papi as well, and Daddy lead by example by never being unpredictable or unfair in his decisions, or indulging himself far more than his husband or baby boy. If he thought his boys had had enough, then that was it. And of course, refusing an offered drink was absolutely fine. Drinking because you didn’t dare to say no, was unacceptable. You couldn’t leave food on your plate unless you had a good reason, but leaving alcohol was never questioned.  
  
Juice had found that he was more than fine with Daddy handling that for him. Not that he couldn’t handle his liqor, but it helped him with his control issues. He easily lost counting on his drinking once he started to relax too much and that usually ended with not only a shitty hangover, but some nasty post-poned anxiety as well.  
  
When someone he trusted kept counting, he could enjoy a drink or two or even get drunk without getting anxious. He knew that if he’d defy that rule by drink more on these occasions, his Daddy would notice and put a stop to it with a solid spanking, using the lexan paddle as well as ginger. Afterwards, he’d be sent to bed for about fifteen minutes thinking time before the talk and comfort.  
  
His Daddies would never ever leave him alone before he was properly cried out, had had some lotion and everything was forgiven and good between them, but he’d loose the rest of the night with them until they went to bed. The wrong kind of naughtiness meant no sex or other fun things and Juice had absolutely no intention of putting that rule to the test. He was horny and fucked up, not a retard.  
  
“You’re cold, baby boy?”  
  
Juice was pulled out of his thoughts again and turned around to give Papi a confused look.  
  
“Uhm… No, Papi.”  
“You shivered, sweetheart.”  
“I did?”  
“Yes, Juicy, come and let me feel your forehead.”  
  
Juice scooted over and Papi put the back of his hand onto him.  
  
“You don’t seem feverish… Sure you’re not feeling cold?”  
“Nuh-uh, Papi. Don’t know why I shivered, I feel fine.”  
“Okay, baby boy. Why don’t you come laying down in Papi’s lap? You can rest your feet on Daddy.”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
  
That seemed like a very good idea and Juice eagerly crawled up with his head onto Papi’s lap, stretching out his legs over Daddy’s. Both men started to pet him, very gently and not in an arousing or teasing way at all. Problem was, Juice could easily nuzzle Papi’s groin and before the temptation became too much to handle, Juice turned to look at him.  
  
“Papi?”  
“Yes, baby boy?”  
“May I please touch your cock?”  
  
Papi just looked at Daddy, who smiled.  
  
“If Papi want to, ye may nuzzle him, but only outside his pants.”  
  
Now Juice looked at Papi, who just seemed even more of a tease when wearing his glasses and he had his sweetest smile.  
  
“Papi would very much like for his baby boy to touch him.”  
  
If Daddy’s rule was followed, of course, but that went without saying.  
  
“Thank you, Papi. Thank you, Daddy.”  
  
Juice bent into Papi’s belly and the trapped cock. The man made a small sound and Juice looked up, smiling.  
  
“What kind of panties are you wearing now, Papi? Did you change them?”  
“Maybe, baby boy…”  
“Ye changed’em, lovey?”  
  
Daddy had taken an interest as well and Papi gave his husband small wink.  
  
“Daddy’s husband and baby boy’s Papi may have gotten slightly excited while cooking… Thinking a little bit too much about Daddy’s big cock putting Papi and baby boy in place… So, yeah, Papi had to get himself a fresh pair of panties between doing the dishes and sitting down with his boys.”  
“That so? C’mon, darling, let yer husband feel, aye?”  
  
Papi immediately widened his legs, but didn’t let go of Juice. He simply lifted his head in his strong arms, giving Daddy access. Juice could hear how Daddy unbottoned Papi’s pants and the soft hiss as the hand he couldn’t see, slipped down Papi’s soft hotpants. Daddy hummed, clearly pleased.  
  
“Darlin’, check our laddie, please.”  
“Yes, Filip.”  
  
Juice couldn’t help but slip out a small mewl, hearing how Daddy’s and Papi’s tone of voices shifted so easily into their respective roles. The courteous, yet clear order and the immediate, respectful response.  
  
Papi’s hand started outside Juice’s pants, before tucking into them and his boxers and Juice whined lowly as Papi’s hand wrapped around his cock.  
  
“Oh, my… Baby boy is _dripping_ , love… You gotta feel for yourself, Filip.”  
  
Daddy’s hand soon made Papi’s company and Juice had to press his face onto Papi’s fabrics covered cock, muffling the noises he wanted to make. His Daddies hadn’t touched him like this until now this weekend, they’d really taken their time with him and Juice started to understand why.  
  
The tension that had built up during the time he’d been away from them, was far worse than usual, took longer time to decrease and Daddy and Papi somehow knew that even if Juice didn’t. Last night and during this day, fucking had simply been out of the question because they understood what Juice hadn’t: that he’d not been ready and wouldn’t have listened, but needed to be shown.  
  
Juice felt them swirl their fingers together around his cock, not stroking or even moving and then he saw how Daddy leaned closer to kiss Papi. It was a long, deep kiss and for a second he felt left out, but the moment the two husbands broke their kiss, Papi smiled at his boy and bent down.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oookay, so writing Ron's and Filip's background simply was WAY funnier than I'd expected, so here's some fucked up moments 22 years ago, with Tara Knowles as Ron's therapist and just so much weird, smutty and disgustingly romantic shit I have nothing to say in my defence except that I do this purely for fun and my mind loves to play tricks on me... I PROMISE the next chapter will pick up where we left Juicyboy and his Daddies by the telly <3<3<3
> 
> POV's shifting between Ronea and Filip, but the entire chapter is in past time.

**Lodi, 22 years earlier**  
  
Ron wiped his eyes and looked through his pockets for a smoke. The sun was a fucking bitch to his face now and he needed some shadow. He needed a smoke first, though. The cap and shades helped some but sticky skin and midday sun were never a nice combo. Neither were Ron and therapy.  
  
It was his fourteenth session in the same amount of weeks and the only reason he kept going up until now, was the fact that Filip demanded it. Well, demand maybe wasn’t the right word, but Ron still thought it was closer to that than a request. An ultimatum, perhaps. In order for them to be together, Filip had decided that Ron would have to stop hurting himself and grow a pair. No, _wrong_. Ron pulled some smoke deep down his lungs and managed to breathe out nice and slow. _Grow a pair. Man up. Stop being a little bitch._ His boyfriend never said such things to him. Never. And not only had he fucking required for Ron to have therapy, he didn’t ask what he was saying in the sessions either. For all he knew, Ron could sit there and tell the therapist things that put him in a bad light, but somehow Filip didn’t care.  
  
Ron looked at his arms. It had been thirtysix days since the last time and he was still trying to digest the fact that when Filip had said there could be no more cutting, it didn’t mean he was leaving him if it happened. The efforts counted, every single one of them and that, as much as therapy sessions and the freedom to go out, see friends and learning that a phone signal wasn’t equal to being supervised and controlled, still felt new to Ron.  
  
The sessions, how ever, always left him feeling rather raw and tired. When Filip had found a therapist, Ron was still suspicious and too fresh out of the three year long hell named Ernest Darby to trust professional secrecy from someone he hadn’t chosen himself. He wanted to trust Filip, God knew he wanted to, but the horrible thought of his boyfriend finding a therapist that would spy on him, was difficult to get rid off. He’d been prepared for an ugly scene, for a fight for power, when he told Filip that, but the guy had just listened and nodded. As if Ron’s arguments were actually valid.  
  
_‘Course ye can look for one yerself, lovey. I jus’ saw this guy’s advert at the hospital and took the number in case ye couldna’ find someone on yer own._  
  
_You wanna know who it is?_  
  
_Don’ see how tha’s any o’ my business, lovey. As long as he or she makes ye feel better, I’m happy._  
  
Dismissing Filip’s suggestion and go for an option of his own, was difficult, but probably good. So did the therapist think. Ron had been very suspicious of Tara Knowles at first, despite the fact that he’d chosen her himself, but she wasn’t bad. Suffered no bullshit and would challenge Ron a lot, really make him take responsibility for the right things and learning the difference between mourning and processing, and being a whiny bitch.  
  
Which he wasn’t. Ron closed his eyes and finished the last of his smoke. Words were important, Tara used to say. _Bitch, looser, slut, fag, girl._ As if being a girl was something bad. As if speaking your mind, failing at things, loving submissive sex and not being a hypermasculine man were something to be ashamed of. As if men weren’t fucking humans too. Ron liked it when Tara cursed and that she didn’t want to be called Dr. Knowles. That she never wore suits or made assumptions based on the fact that he was gay.  
  
It was a very positive thing, she said, that Filip didn’t wanted to know who Ron met. That it was a sign of trust, healthy distance and balance. Maybe that’s why Ron had told her about the things he’d not meant to share with her today. About the obedience. How it scared the living shit out of him, the fact that he never felt happier, calmer or more safe, than when his boyfriend made the decisions. He’d really not intended to spill that truth. This was Lodi, for fucks sake, and while it wasn’t the 80’s anymore, there still was a fucking long way to go before most people would meet someone like Ron without thinking of aids and orgies. Jesus, even within the gay community, he felt odd as hell.  
  
Tara Knowles, how ever, must’ve been from another planet. Instead of disapproval and disgust, she’d been honestly curious about how it made Ron feel, being obedient by choice. How it was different from doing it out of fear. If he wanted it to go away and if so, was it because he thought it wasn’t good for him, or because he was ashamed of his feelings. Did these sessions make a positive difference to his life, or did he keep going solely because Filip had told him to?  
  
Today, Ron honestly knew the answer to that question.  
  
He’d started going because he wanted Filip in his life, because he wanted to please the man. But he’d learned, as the weeks passed, that despite the tears, painful digging into feelings, constant battle with his self-hatred and the exhaustion afterwards, that it actually helped. It wasn’t a quick fix, not by any means, and sometimes he slipped through what he’d named _the dark veil_ and hated everyone and everything, most of all himself, not seeing any light what so ever. But he’d finally reached a point where he didn’t cut or scratch himself, run away or went binge-drinking when it happened, at least not as a first choice. He kept going because he wanted to.  
  
He had tools now, techniques that most of the time helped him slow down the dark ride significantly, sometimes even stopping it before it had a chance to take off. Other days, he wasn’t so lucky and if the techniques had faild and all other flight options were out of reach, he’d start screaming at Filip. Making every ridiculous and unfair accusation that he could think of, even if his boyfriend never took that bait anymore, but just stayed calm until Ronea had exhausted himself enough.  
  
Then, Filip would sit down with him, not cuddling him, but sit face to face, give him some water and ask if he was ready to listen. He would ask Ron to explain himself and every little accusation and mean word he’d thrown at him. What had he honestly meant? Did he really want to hurt his boyfriend? What was fair and what wasn’t?  
  
Ron could never explain, not in that moment, but Filip still asked. Gave the opportunity, but didn’t force anything. He made him calm down enough to listen, explained what he thought was an unacceptable behavior, not only towards a boyfriend, but himself. Did he agree with him? If not, then Filip wanted to hear why and would take it seriously. If he did, then there would be consequences.  
  
They’d tried lots of things before Filip finally was willing to even consider spanking. The only thing that had helped a little bit, was writing lines, simply because it forced Ron to actually sit down and express his missteps and outbursts on paper, but it didn’t calm him enough. The message didn’t sink in and so, after lots of thinking and talking about it, Filip had decided for period of trial after he’d talked to a girl he knew well within the BDSM community for guidance. Also, Ron would have to discuss this with his therapist and if she or he – Filip really didn’t know – didn’t think it was a good idea, then Ron would have to be honest and tell him.  
  
Right now, Ron was crying out of relief, not just exhaustion.  
  
***  
  
_Do you trust him to say no, to stop entirely, should you come to the conclusion that this wasn’t what you expected or wanted?_  
  
_Yes._  
  
_Then, give it a go. You obviously feel very strongly about this, Ronea, and you’re an adult, not a child or mentally incapable of making healthy decisions. If you truly believe that you’d be happier in a more submissive role in your relationship and that your partner is willing to try it as well, then you should feel free to explore those feelings. The important thing, as we’ve talked a lot about, is consent and dialogue. I’ve actually done some research myself since you brought it up the first time and although it’s nothing people generally feel comfortable to talk about or even admit to themselves, it’s not that uncommon and it doesn’t have to be unhealthy as long as there’s constant dialogue and consent._  
  
_We talk a lot about it. Every day. I don’t know why and I feel like a complete fuckup about this, but I… I just want it. I really want it…_  
  
_Then trust that instinct, Ronea._  
  
_So, I have your permission?_  
  
_Permission? No, because you don’t need it and even if you feel you do, it’s still not something I can give. This is your life and I can tell you’ve come a long way these past three and a half months. You’re stronger than you think, you’re thinking clearly, you have plans and wishes for the future. You don’t hurt yourself, you seem healthier, brighter and more present. And from what I can tell, you’re now in a relationship that doesn’t oppress you, that doesn’t grind you down. You don’t need anyone’s permission, Ronea, just mutual consent with the person you want to explore these feelings with._  
  
_What if it doesn’t work? What if he leaves me?_  
  
_Why would he leave you for trying out something you both want?_  
  
_I don’t… Don’t wanna give him false hopes._  
  
_Why are you here, Ronea?_  
  
_What?_  
  
_Why are you here? Who wanted you to go to therapy in the first place?_  
  
_Filip._  
  
_And why did he want that?_  
  
_‘Cause he wants to be sure that I… can handle it, I guess._  
  
_And why is that important for him?_  
  
_‘Cause he doesn’t want to… hurt me?_  
  
_And why doesn’t he want to hurt you?_  
  
_‘Cause he loves me…_  
  
_Because he loves you, Ronea. Because he cares about you, because your feelings are just as important as his and he doesn’t want to risk hurting you_. _He makes you feel safe and I don’t think it’s because he’s controlling, or even want to, control you, but because he’s in control of himself. Am I right in this?_  
  
_Yes. He’s… He’s a good man, Tara. A really good man…_  
  
_And so are you, Ronea. You need to believe that you deserve a good life and a good man._  
  
***  
  
“Hey, darlin’…”  
“Filip? God… I’m… I’m sorry, I… I should’ve called.”  
“No, no, lovey, I knew ye needed some time for yerself. Don’ appologise.”  
“How did you find me?”  
“Well, I kinda know ye.”  
  
Filip was looking out over the lake, sunglasses hiding his eyes.  
  
“When ye weren’t back home for dinner, I figured ye’d had a rough session. Can leave again if ye wannae be alone, lovey, but I got a wee bit worried when ye didn’t answer yer phone.”  
“Fuck… Had it on mute… I really didn’t mean to, Filip. Completely forgot.”  
“It’s okay, muppet.”  
“No, it’s not.”  
  
Filip turned to him then, removed his sunglasses and stroke Ron’s cheek.  
  
“Ye’re right, it’s not. But it’s understandable. Everyone forgets shite sometimes, lovey. I’m just glad I found ye in one of yer usual places. Ye’ve not hurt yerself, right?”  
  
Ron shook his head.  
  
“No.”  
“Ye’re ma fighter, baby. So proud o’ ye, Ronea.”  
  
Filip’s voice was so calm and warm and it made Ron feel safe. Less out of himself and he leaned into his boyfriend.  
  
“She said we can try…”  
“She did?”  
“Yeah…”  
“How do ye feel ‘bout tha’? Having, I donno… permission?”  
“Not permission, she was pretty clear with that. That I don’t need permission, ‘cause I’m… you know, not a kid or a retard.”  
“Professional clearance then?”  
“Not exactly. She said that I… should trust my insticts when it came to you. To us.”  
“Tha’s some really good fucking news, lovey.”  
“Yeah.”  
  
He sighed and Filip kissed his hair.  
  
“Ye’re exhausted,  darlin’… How about I call Bobby to pick up yer car so I can give ye a ride home?”  
“Your place?”  
“Aye.”  
“Just us?”  
“Of course.”  
“You’re not going to the club tonight?”  
“No. Wannae be with ma chavie. Make sure he’s alright… make’im feel good. Don’ need no more bikers tonight, darlin’, jus’ ma man…”  
   
***  
  
_Same night, much, much later_  
  
The small bedroom smelled from sweat, cheap soap, cum and lube. The sheets were soaked and the fan on the bedside table practically useless. Filip was breathing heavily against his lover’s neck as he was softening inside him. He slipped out from the throbbing, wet heat and just sank down onto his man’s chest.  
  
He was drained. Physically, mentally and he sighed.  
  
“Lovey…”  
“Yeah, baby?”  
“I love ye an awful lot, ye know tha’… but if… if I’ve gotta fuck ye _three times_ in one night everytime I’ve tanned yer arse, I’m gonnae break ma cock…”  
  
Ronea laughed. It was a deep, relaxed and equally exhausted laughter, one he hadn’t let out in a very long time. He was sore as hell, but it felt good, so goddamn good, feeling how Filip’s cum was running out of him, down onto the long since ruined sheet. He knew his ass was glowing pink, that he’d have a little hard time sitting tomorrow, but he welcomed the feeling.  
  
His man had brought him home on his bike, lectured him about not leaving a message even if he wasn’t angry, just to make a point about not making him worry. He’d then given Ronea a choice. He could either write lines, sit alone to think about what he’d done, or have a spanking. The choice was, of course, obvious, but if this was how Filip dealt with it, Ronea would happily oblige. Next choice was the instrument. Hand, hairbrush or wooden spoon. He went with the hand, then twenty strikes and Filip kept having him choose the form of his reprimand, step by step, all the way until Ronea was laying across his lap with his pants and boxers down.  
  
It had been strangely intimate, so gentle, despite the pain and shameful position. His man was in control, he wasn’t angry, wasn’t confused or in a hurry. There was no joking, no gameplay, just Ronea and his man keeping him firmly in place and delivering the punishment. The strikes were very balanced, hard and a farcry from playful, but absolutely not unbearable. They were designed to sting properly, not to harm. By the tenth, Ronea fought to stay silent, by the thirteenth he kicked his legs and when Filip had delivered the twenty blows Ronea was sobbing.  
  
Instead of just letting him stand and get dressed, his lover had him lay down on the bed, holding him in his arms and just cuddle him as Ronea cried.  
  
“Ye’re alright, lovey?”  
“Y-yeah…”  
“Good… Don’ think, darlin’, jus’ relax… We’ll stay like this for as long as needed… Don’ have to worry ‘bout anything now, Ronea. My baby… my lil’ baby…”  
  
Afterwards, when he was cried out and more relaxed than he’d been for months, they both peeled their clothes off and Ronea put his feet onto Filip’s shoulders, all but pulled him in, begging for it, to be fucking pounded down the mattress because for the first time ever, he felt in the absolute right place both physically _and_ in his head. He was there, all of him, and Ronea needed to savor it, to bask in it for as long a possible.  
  
Now, five hours, some breaks and round three later, when one could hear the neighborhoods cats hunting and fighting outside, along with the angry knocking in the thin walls from Filip’s Seventh-day Adventist neighbor, they laid on the bed, just facing each other. Filip’s long hair was a complete mess and he brushed it aside, just to look at the man who trusted him in a way that almost scared him.  
  
“S’ a good thing ye’re not a lass, lovey… ‘Cause if ye were, an’ by the way ye’re lookin’ at me right now… I’d probably ask ye to marry me…”  
  
He’d certainly not meant to say it, it sounded bloody crazy, and fucked up and sappy as it was, maybe it was due to the afterglow of the night.  
  
“Yes…”  
  
It was so low, it was barely audible. There was no pause, just a breath between them and Filip opened his mouth like some fish flushed up on land. Ronea looked completely serious and swallowed.  
  
“If… if I was a girl, and you’d ask me that… or if two men could get hitched and you’d ask… you’d better be careful, ‘cause I’d answer yes.”  
  
There was silence for a moment, just two young idiots in a bed, knowing without having to say or even find the right words for it, that whatever it was they had, it was something they wouldn’t find with anyone or anywhere else.  
  
No jokes. No games. No playing with roles.  
  
“Marry me, Ronea… Not tha’ I know how when it’s not even legal, but… I wannae feel, wha’ it’s like… for ye to be mine, ye know… For real. Don’ wan’ anyone else, jus’ ye.”  
“And I you. So… yeah, baby. Yes, I wanna marry you, Filip and… don’t need some authorities, not to me, jus’ someone to witness. ‘S long as it’s real for us… That’s all that counts.”  
“So… how’s next week? Ouch!”  
  
Ronea pinched his ass.  
  
“I’m not a girl, but I’m still vain, baby. And I thought you liked doing things properly. You know, old-fashioned, courting style…”  
“A year then. Since we’re so old-fashioned.”  
“You know… this… this part of me, baby… I really don’t think it’s gonna go away.”  
  
Filip stroke a thumb alongside Ronea’s chin.  
  
“I don’ wan’ ye to change, lovey. If this… if this is who ye are an’ wha’ ye need from me, then I’ll try an’ give it to ye. I _wannae_ give it to ye…”  
“So… does that mean I’ll do what my grannie did and promise to obey my husband by the altar?”  
“Doubt there’s any church that’ll let us even near the altar, darlin’, but… Aye, if tha’s wha’ ye truly want, baby.”  
“A year then?”  
“Aye.”  
“I’ll be your little wife…”  
  
His man shook his head.  
  
“No, Ronea. Don’ want a wife… I want a husband. An’ I want _ye_. Jus’ ye…”


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foreplay, just lots of foreplay. Also: I've actually never written threesome sex before at all, so this is kinda new to me... Bless y'all for the sweet comments and encouragement with this absolute crack ship <3<3<3

The first time Papi kissed him, the man had tasted like coffee and menthols. Slightly bitter and fresh. Now, he tasted from Daddy too and Daddy was all jeans and leather, motor oil and wind in the hair that was now greyish in the roots. Where Papi was a creature of the night, neverending teasing and seductive in a way that made you think of discretely signed bars where you could sneak inside for a taste in secret, Daddy was the one who’d take you there and not let anything bad happen. The guard who’d make sure that everything was safe and controlled.  
  
They’d arranged so that they could take turns kissing him. Juice was laying on Papi’s arm, spooned by his warm body and Daddy was sitting on his knees on the floor, not in a submissive manner, never, but simply to reach his man and baby boy easier. They didn’t touch his locked up cock now, or themselves, but Juice could still feel Papi’s equally caged erection against his ass and, when he managed to open his eyes, catch a glimpse of Daddy’s denim clad bulge. The sight had him moan into Daddy’s mouth.  
  
“Daddy… I’m your baby boy, right…?”  
“That ye are, Juicy…”  
“Will you please let your baby boy touch you, Daddy?”  
“Are ye gonnae be a good boy for Daddy?”  
“Yes, Daddy. I’ll be a good boy for you. The bestest I can…”  
  
Daddy chuckled.  
  
“See, lovey, how well-behaved our lil’ one is.”  
“Such a good boy, baby… Will you indulge him, sweet husband?”  
  
Papi’s voice was low and husky now and the plead made Juice squirm a little. The man was so versatile, Juice could barely grasp it. The roles of a submissive husband and a dominant Papi existed in absolute parallel with one another, the shiftings didn’t seem to require any thought or time for adjustment. They were floating side by side, yet never getting mixed up.  
  
Daddy took Juice’s hand and let it slide over his thigh, before he allowed him to wander. Juice cupped Daddy’s cock tentatively, showing a patience he really didn’t have but wanted to give, this respect for boundaries and wait for permission from a caring authority. The first reward, as always, came immediately.  
  
“ _Good boy_ , Juicy. Tha’s Daddy’s good boy… so patient and respectful. Ye may touch me, lil’ one.”  
“Thank you, Daddy.”  
  
A pleasant shudder went through Juice as he was finally allowed to give in to his need. Daddy was fully hardening under the coarse denim, his cock a prominent contour, straining behind the fabrics and Juice all but whimpered when Papi started to stroke his baby boy as well. Daddy leaned over to Juice’s ear.  
  
“Daddy’s gonnae take care o’ both his boys tonight, laddie. Keepin’ them both in line… so they don’ misbehave or go astray…”  
“Please, Daddy…”  
“Please Daddy, what, lil’ one?”  
“Please take care of me, Daddy. Put your baby boy in place…”  
  
Papi leaned down for another kiss and there was wanting there, Juice could feel how the usually so controlled man was affected by Daddy’s gentle firmness. How the sense of his man’s strenght made Papi let go just a little bit as well.  
  
Juice started to get a little dizzy, but in a good way. His hands wandered, tugged mindlessly but still carefull at any piece of his Daddies clothing he could grasp. Shirts sleeves and buttons, searching for skin and Papi gently took his hand, swirling fingers together.  
  
“Filip, love…”  
“Aye, darlin’?”  
“Think it’s time we take our baby boy upstairs now… He needs his Daddy, baby, and your husband needs his strong man... My panties are soaked…”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little trip into Filip's mind ;)

He loved his boys. Filip Telford had never been that easy to fall for people until he met Ron and then, more than twenty years later, Juice. They were completely different, bodily and within their personalities and although Filip had done his best to keep his feelings in a tight leash for various reasons, sometimes he wondered if it was a dangerous thing, being this happy from not only one but two persons.  
_  
Your husband and baby boy need their strong husband and Daddy. They need **you** , Filip Telford, and unlike those bastards they met before you came into each their very different lives, you cannot be selfish. Never ever._  
  
Filip kept his thoughts from showing as he watched how Ron carried their lad upstairs. His husband was tall and strong, actually just a wee bit taller than Filip and as always, the sight filled his chest with gratitude. For the trust, the care, the love he daily received from this truly amazing man. He’d seen how Ron looked at the lad who quietly, with deeply flushed cheeks, accepted a spanking Filip had been sure he’d refuse. How his meek husband had been unable to take his eyes off the lad bent over their couch.   
  
His husband had _loved_ the sight, it had turned him on in a way spankings usually didn’t and honestly, it had surprised Filip. Spankings relaxed his beloved, they didn’t turn him on, but this, seeing another man have a taste from Filip’s paddle, apparantly was a whole other thing. Later, when Juice had left and Ronea did the dishes with an unusually confused look on his pretty face, Filip had hugged him from behind by the sink and immediately been answered with a soft, breathy _fuck me._  
  
What had surprised him the most, wasn’t the request in itself because of course Ron asked to be fucked just as often as Filip asked to fuck him, but the almost demanding tone of his voice. It had went raspy, close to coarse and such a farcry from the usual meekness, it had startled him. More than that, Ron simply didn’t seem aware of it, lost somewhere in a feeling that wasn’t defined but definitely not bad. Filip had taken him by the sink, Ron’s hands still lathered from the detergent and his submissive husband had been a pure 6’1 rutting animal, legs widespread and moaning loud enough for Filip to throw a look at the window, making sure it was closed.  
  
Now, six months later, Filip didn’t know how either of them had lived without this side of his husband unleashed, because the way Ron held Juice in his arms, was like he’d found a missing piece of himself he didn’t know he needed. It was a possessive grip, but so very gentle, and Ron’s arms were beautifully taut from the strain. Juice wasn’t exactly light, but Ron carried him so steadily, with such an ease and Filip followed from behind, watching his boys that simply completed each in a way he couldn’t. He didn’t feel jealous or left out from it, not in any sense, only grateful that he could give his husband what he needed without Filip having to force himself into a submissive role that didn’t and never would, suit him.  
  
Ron put Juice to sit on the bed and then he turned so that he was facing Filip, but in the same time held their baby boy’s hand. He bent his head slightly and kneeled. It was so important for his darling, that his recently discovered need never meant that Filip stepped back from _him._ Ron was submissive in every sense, in his own adorably sassy way, and although being Juice’s dom clearly filled a deep need within him, he was unable to give in to or take pleasure in it, unless Filip called the shots and would reckognize his essential submissiveness. Without Filip’s permission and encouragement, this side of Ron would still be locked away and there’d be something missing in their life together.  
  
Filip put a hand under Ron’s chin and lifted his head upwards. His husband’s eyes had that teasing glimpse, but there was no actual sass, only gratitude and adoration and Filip kissed him, slow and deliberately.   
  
“Undress our li’l one, baby.”  
”Yes, Filip.”  
  
It was a delicate thing, their arrangement with Juice, that required clear rules and guidelines. Filip would never be stressed, drunk or even tipsy when they did this and neither would Ron. They had a huge responsibility here and Juice’s needs were priority. The lad craved control, not his own, but theirs. There could be no hesitation or uncertainty between Filip and Ron, because that would make their lil’ one worried. By never letting Ron take _complete_ charge over anything and not messing with the chain of command, both Filip’s lads could feel safe and comfortable in their roles and that’s where Filip’s own needs came into the picture.  
  
He loved the control, the steadiness he could provide, not only for his husband, but their lad as well. It was a power that, unless he kept _himself_ in control, would be dangerous fo all of them, and to be allowed this kind of power over two sane grown-ups, knowing they both trusted him to set the rules and boundaries, was the biggest turn-on Filip could imagine. His cock was straining just as much from these gentle ministrations and orders, as from the sight of Ron removing their little one’s clothes.  
  
Juice had a body to die for, not an ounce of unecessary fat, only lean and burly muscles. Impossible for Filip or Ron to take control over without consent or simply nasty methods. Knowing that this buff and strong man willingly gave the power to them not because he was weak in any sence, but because he needed to let go and just _trust_ , was a truly beautiful thing. As Ron undressed him, Filip was still standing beside them, watching as their desperate yet so well-behaved lad became fully on display.   
  
When all that was left was the chastity device, Ron had Juice kneeling on the floor, slightly behind his left, so that he could watch. Filip put his hands around Ron’s neck, cradling him for a moment and placed a kiss on his lips. Then he started to undress his man.  
  
Filip didn’t kneel when doing this, he circled around, wanting to just have a good look at Ron while removing his clothes. When he’d come to the panties, Filip slid his hand just between his legs, to feel the damp fabrics on his arm and Ron’s breath became a little bit faster, but he didn’t moan or speak. Filip removed the panties and nudged him to get down so that he had both his lads on their knees in front of him as he undressed himself.  
  
It was important, a sign of respect, that Filip showed a hint of vulnerability as well. His body was by no means ripped or smooth, he was close to fifty after all, and had never been one to hit the gym on a regular basis. He had to put himself on display for these amazing men, reminding them that he wasn’t perfect in any sense, that he trusted _them_ to treat him with care too.   
  
Juice was behaving so well, sitting still and silent on the floor, only following with his big, brown eyes. He didn’t touch himself, remembered it wasn’t allowed, but he seemed just a wee bi too worried again and so Filip gently stroked his hair, just reassuring him that he was safe and not left out or forgotten. On cue, Ron discovered their boy’s need and leaned over to nuzzle his shoulder while Filip unbottoned his own jeans. Having control over his needs, didn’t mean it had been easy to abstain from taking his boys to bed until now and it was another sign of gratitude for his darlings, that Filip _wouldn’t_ fulfill his own wantings whenever he wanted to, just because he _could.  
  
_ When he was completely naked, cock rigid and wet at the tip, Filip took each of his loved ones under the chin, smiling.  
  
“Look at ye… My pretty babies, both being such _good boys_ for me. Yer husband an’ Daddy is such a lucky man, ye’re making me so happy an’ I love ye so much. How ‘bout I reward ye?”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Just... smut :p

”Nice and slow, lil’ one… No rush, jus’ taste yer Papi…”  
“Good boy, Juice… _Good boy_ …”  
  
Juice let out a pleased hum, let the rumble of it tease along the shaft. Papi’s cock was already wet at the tip, veins prominent and Juice relaxed himself, just sank down as slow as he could muster. He could feel how Papi tensed just a little, the good kind, and how he tried to force his hips still. With every slow dipping, Juice felt the way Papi pressed his ass down.  
  
Papi’s feet were moving, sliding across the sheet and when Juice looked up, he saw how Daddy held him. Papi was leaned back into his arms, cradled really, and Juice involuntarily reached down to his own cock, forgetting that it was secured for Daddy. Papi’s usual chastity belt, though, had been removed and replaced with a metal ring at the base of his cock and around his balls, because Daddy always took such good care of his husband and baby boy, prolonging their pleasure to spoil them. Fortunately for Juice too, because unless he’d been properly caged himself, he wouldn’t last long.  
  
Everytime he looked up, he got a view of Papi’s ample torso. He wasn’t ripped, neither was Daddy, and Juice loved that. Being cuddled between them always made him feel so safe and warm. The thought of having one or both of them fucking him, maybe taking turns, just sharing him like human goods was almost too much for his brain to handle right now, especially with how much Papi was leaking.   
  
Juice dropped his cock slowly, looking at the man who was leaning onto Daddy with big eyes.  
  
“Is it me, Papi? Is it your baby boy who’s making you so wet? Am I a good boy for you, Papi?”  
“The very… best, baby boy… It is you, sweetheart, it’s absolutely you…”  
  
Papi was panting a little, clearly affected by his baby boy’s question and Juice pressed his lips together for a moment, wetting them before sinking down again. Papi was waxed all over, except for a thin line of hair from his middle, almost meeting the belly button. A single strip and Juice brushed over it with his tongue.  
  
“Don’t thrust, Ronea.”  
“No, Filip.”  
  
Papi immediately stilled his hips from Daddy’s order, although it seemed to require some effort and Juice felt all warm from it, knowing it was _he_ who made Papi feel like that. The absolute obedience was so hot to witness too, how Papi didn’t question or tried to sneak out of Daddy’s order. Lost to Juice’s ministrations, yes, but never out of reach for Daddy’s voice. The small, sometimes almost invisible signs of Papi’s need for Daddy’s firm, gentle steering, were so vivid right now. Like he couldn’t feel pleasure without Daddy keeping him steady. Couldn’t give into just feeling, unless he knew his husband held and protected him.  
  
Juice rose his head, letting go of Papi’s cock for a moment and looked straight him.  
  
“You’re so beautiful, Papi. Thank you, for wanting me make you feel good.”  
  
He widened his gaze to reach Daddy too.  
  
“And thank you, Daddy, for allowing me to make Papi feel good. I’m so grateful for this, that I can love you both… Being all yours…”  
  
There was so much more he wanted to say, things he didn’t actually have words for, only knew that they grew inside him until it felt almost unbearable, like he was close to choking on something nameless that was so much more than just anticipation or lust or even gratitude. This wasn’t getting off, playing a game or even just their usual sex, but something else and it scared him. It was threatening and by God, his Daddies could see it and so they both reached out for him, pulling him onto Papi’s frame and gave him comfort. Both men’s arms were closing around him, he could feel Papi’s steady heartbeats and Daddy’s calming strokes on his shoulders.  
  
“We got ye, lil’ one. Shh… sweet lad, Daddy an’ Papi got ye… No shame, no worries, little darlin’. We’re so proud o’ ye, so happy ye’re with us, Juicyboy. Give us a kiss, lovey…”  
  
Kissing them with Papi’s taste still on his tongue always felt so good and they took turns, sharing his mouth back and forth until Juice was whimpering from it as he tried his best not to rut against Papi’s cock.  
  
“Fingers, lovey…”  
“Yes, baby.”  
  
Papi put his fingers into Juice’s mouth, had him lick them up good before slipping them down between his legs, sliding the perineum for a moment and Juice whined as the man slowly pressed inside him.   
  
“Ye like tha’, laddie?”  
“Y-yes, Daddy.”  
“Is our lil’ one wet enough, lovey?”  
”Yes, baby.”  
”Then ye may ride Papi’s fingers, lil’ one. Open up for us…”


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good boys and obedient husbands will be rewarded - when Daddy wants^^

He’d never really liked it. Fingering. Maybe because he’d not seen the point. The people he’d been with certainly hadn’t and with enough lube and relaxation, you didn’t need it. With Papi, it was different and Juice still wasn’t sure why. The long, slick fingers were not passive despite him riding, they curled and twisted, as if Papi needed to really feel everywhere. He used a lot of lube, almost too much, and Juice filed that information into the part of his mind labeled “things Daddy and Papi haven’t told me”.  
  
He could still taste Papi when Daddy reached out to kiss his boy and Juice moaned into his mouth, unabashed as he only would with these men as he kept riding the hand.  
  
“Look at you, baby boy… Positively gorgeous like this… Don’t you agree, baby?”  
  
Daddy gave a pleased hum that made Juice whine again.   
  
“He’s perfect, lovey… Jus’ perfect…”  
  
The praise just turned him on further and Juice rode faster, hips almost hitching and he felt dizzy.  
  
“Slow down, lil’ one. Slow down…”  
  
But he couldn’t. Juice felt his own mind taking over and it scared him. He whimpered and then the fingers disappeared and Papi’s strong hands grabbed his hips.  
  
“Be still, baby boy. Listen to Papi.”  
  
He wanted to, but his body wouldn’t let him and even worse, Juice couldn’t find words to explain or ask for help. He was a bad boy, disobedient and his Daddies would remove him from their bed now…  
  
“Baby boy, sweet Juicy… It’s alright, my little love, come to Papi and let me hold you for a moment, okay?”  
  
Arms, firm but not forceful, closed around him and Juice leaned onto Papi’s chest.  
  
“There you go… It’s alright, you’re just overwhelmed, sweetheart.”  
“Rest for a while, laddie. We’ve got ye, there’s nothing to be afraid of an’ no rush.”  
“Wanna… be good for you, Daddy…”  
  
Juice almost sobbed it and his Daddies started to give soothing pets, coo and calm him.  
  
“Ye _are_ good, Juicy. So very good an’ ye know everything we do here is consensual, right? If ye feel the wrong kind of hurt or discomfort, ye _need_ to tell us so we can stop. Tha’s crucial, lil’ one, an’ ye _know_ that.”  
“Y-yes, Daddy.”  
“Good boy. Now try an’ relax a bit, lil’ one. Nothing’s wrong, we’re not going anywhere, ye’re not alone and we’ve got all the time in the world. T’is just us right now, Juicy. Jus’ our good baby boy an’ his proud Daddies.”  
  
They kept holding and petting him, rocking him in their arms and like magic, the stress disappeared and Juice felt the sense of security surround him again. His mind calmed a bit and the dizziness gave away for words to express what he needed.  
  
“Daddy?”  
“Aye, laddie?”  
”I… I want this, I really do, but… It’s a bit too much…”  
  
He stopped to try and find words and Papi kissed his crown.   
  
“Take your time, baby boy. We’re here for you and we both want to hear you out.”  
  
More soothing touches, not to arouse but to calm, and Juice took a deep breath.  
  
“Ginger… your ginger salve, Papi. I… can you give me some of it? Not inside but…”  
”On your buttocks, baby boy?”  
“Y-yes, please.”  
“Why, sweetheart?”  
“B-because I think it… will keep me from… fluttering.”  
“Oh… Well… Filip, love, what do you say?”  
“Ye’re sure, Juicy? It stings a lot as ye know…”  
”I know, Daddy, but… maybe just a little… to make me… feel grounded, you know? Even it out…”  
  
Daddy kissed his neck.  
  
”Of course I’ll help ye, lil’ one. Jus’ lean onto yer Papi for a while an’ I’ll get the salve for ye.”  
“Thank you, Daddy.”  
  
While Daddy fetched the salve Juice usually hated, but simply needed right now, Papi re-arranged them so that Juice was laying with his head onto his lap again, with a pillow to keep him from nuzzling Papi’s cock. Strong arms lifted his hips and Juice once again laid across Daddy’s lap.  
  
“Ye’re ready, lil’ one?”  
“No, Daddy, that’s… that’s kinda the point.”  
  
Daddy and Papi both chuckled and then Juice felt the sting as Daddy rubbed his still sore ass with the ginger salve.  
  
“Fuck!”  
  
It stinged as hell and he couldn’t help but cursing, which earned him a proper slap as well and his cock that had been going half limp, filled up in an instant. Daddy kept rubbing him.  
  
“This is not a punishment, lil’ one, ye know tha’ right?”  
”Yes, Daddy. Thank you… Thank you so much, I… I just needed this…”  
“Anytime, Juicy… Anytime.”   
  
The burn, for some fucking reason, made his mind clear again and brought him away from the chaos he couldn’t handle. The air found it’s way down his lungs, his chest loosened up and his hole was clenching around air, desperate to be filled, cock throbbing with need and Juice involuntarily arched his back, rubbing his cock against Daddy’s thigh.  
  
“Daddy… Papi… please fuck me… Please, fuck your baby boy now, I… I need to…”  
“Ssch, laddie… We’ll give ye wha’ ye need, Juicyboy. Just trust Daddy, alright?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Good boy. Now stand, both o’ ye.”  
“Yes, Filip.”  
“Y-yes, Daddy.”  
  
Papi had to help him, but Juice soon felt steady again and they stood together beside the bed. Daddy scooted up to the middle of the bed and leaned against the bedend. He was beautiful, legs widened and Juice looked at the tats and scars, the lean chest and the belly he loved to rub his dick against when he got the chance. Daddy nodded at Papi.  
  
“Come an’ suck yer husband’s cock, lovey.”  
“Thank you, Filip.”  
  
Papi kneeled in front of Daddy, slowly dipping his head down and spreading his legs wide, ass up like a cat in heat. Daddy rubbed Papi’s head fondly and then took Juice’s hand.  
  
“Prepare yer Papi, laddie. Be a good boy an’ get’im wet an’ open for Daddy’s cock.”  
“Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy.”  
  
Juice tried to not rush as he went behind Papi. The man’s back was arched and he’d made himself spread as much as possible, putting his waxed hole perfectly inviting. Juice let his hands slide along Papi’s hips, carressing him because he needed that too, needed to give his dominant Papi some tenderness too, showing how much he adored him and wanted to be gentle with him as well.   
  
The view was perfect. Papi’s ass had a very nice, pink tone and Juice rubbed it before bending down and dip just the tip of his tongue onto the hole. Then he got bolder and started to swipe in circles, hearing how Papi moaned with his mouth full of Daddy’s cock. Papi couldn’t form words now, only sounds, and neither could Juice. Papi tasted so good and all Juice could hear apart from his mewls, was Daddy’s dominant voice.  
  
“Well done, Ronea. Tha’s my good lil’ homemaker… Take it all the way now… Yes, ah…. Tha’s it, darlin’, tha’s a good man… Ye want my cock, lovey?”  
“Mhmm…”  
  
Papi just moaned around Daddy’s cock and Juice stuck his tongue deeper into his ass.  
  
“Aaah!”  
  
Papi shouted, gagging too and Juice dipped further down, to have a look at his cock. Papi was so hard now, bellend swollen and dripping and Juice wanted to taste him again, but it was too difficult from the angle and he’d not been allowed to. Instead he took Papi’s left ball in his mouth, rolling it around as the man turned into a quivering mess above him. He moved to the other and Papi was panting now, lifting his head from Daddy’s cock.  
  
“Filip, I… _Fucking hell_ , I…”  
“Ye’re fine, lovey. Our lil’ one working ye up so good for me… Tha’s enough, Juicy.”  
“Yes, Daddy.”   
  
Juice instantly stopped what he was doing and Papi leaned onto Daddy’s chest.   
  
“Filip?”  
“Yes, my love?”  
”Will you please let me have my cock in our baby boy’s ass?”  
“An’ wha’ would ye do with’im, lovey?”  
“I… _I_ wouldn’t do anything, _sir_ , but you would fuck him with my cock, while you’re fucking me.”  
“Is tha’ wha’ ye want, husband?”  
“Yes, please, sir.”  
“Well… Wha’ ‘bout ye, lil’ one? Ye want Daddy to fuck ye with Papi’s big cock?”  
“Yes, please, Daddy.”  
“Ye’ve never had his cock, lil’ one… Only mine… Would ye like to know how Papi’s big cock feels too?”  
“Yes, Daddy. Please, _please_ … I’ll be so good for you, I promise.”  
“As ye wish, then. But ye cannae cum. Ye’re cumming from Daddy’s cock only, lil’ one. Ye understand me, lad?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Good. C’mere, Ronea, so I can unlock ye.”  
“Yes, sir. Thank you… Thank you, husband…”


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filth!

The ring around Papi’s cock was once again changed and Juice looked with wide eyes as Daddy took another ring with four straps attached to it and brought it all the way up to the base of Papi’s cock. The straps were pulled back like reins over and under Papi’s thighs, ending up in a larger metal ring with one leather strap for Daddy to hold behind Papi’s back.  
  
“Ronea, love… Ye’re not gonnae do any movements on yer own until I say ye can. Is tha’ clear, husband?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Are ye feeling well, my love?”  
“Yes, baby. I feel perfectly fine.”  
“Good. Juicyboy, how are ye feeling, lil’ one?”  
“G-good, Daddy.”  
“Ye’re wet enough?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Good, good… Ronea, baby… Take our lad’s legs over yer thighs an’ put yer cock against his hole.”  
“Yes, Filip.”  
  
The way his Daddies shifted between their various names for each other, just knowing exactly which one to use in which situation, was another thing that could make Juice go weak with want for his lovers. He bit his lips as Papi lifted his legs, spread him wide across his thighs and finally, fucking finally, there was cock against his hole, not pressing in but waiting in trust and obedience as Papi carefully wrapped his arms around Juice’s torso. A twitch had them both moan and Juice realised it wasn’t Papi who moved his cock, but Daddy and that just made Papi harder.  
  
“Tha’s my good boys…  See, Juicyboy… yer Papi hasn’t had ass around his cock very often in the las’ twenty years an’ I’m gonnae reward him for his patience, making him cum inside ye, lil’ one. I’ll reward him with tha’, because he’s such a good husband. Gonnae reward ye too, lil’ one, giving ye his cum… ”  
  
Both Juice and Papi were moaning now, spurred on by Daddy’s praise and then, agonizingly slow, Daddy rubbed his own cock over the crack of Papi’s ass, placing it just right and Juice felt Papi press inside him, filling him up while being filled himself. The expression on Papi’s beautiful face was downright adorable, looking like a mixture of a kid that had been set loose in a candy store, and absolute bliss. Juice felt how big Papi was inside him, how his fat, throbbing member inch by inch was put in place by Daddy.  
  
Papi didn’t make it happen, Daddy did, and not without making sure his meek husband was filled up at the same time. Juice’s heart was speeding up, his whole body ready to spasm just from the notion that Papi’s cock was merely an instrument in Daddy’s hands now, that Papi’s hips wouldn’t move by their own, but _being_ moved by Daddy. He grabbed Papi’s arms, needed something to hold onto and Papi let him, Daddy let _them_ , his submissive man and baby boy, come together.  
  
“Ye may kiss our lil’ one, baby.”  
“Thank you, Filip.”  
  
Juice didn’t have time to thank anyone, before Papi’s lips lowered down. He let himself be cradled by the strong arms, head scooped up as Papi kissed him slow and deep. Then Daddy began to move.  
  
It felt so good and so different from just being held by Papi while Daddy did the fucking. Papi wasn’t the soothing comforter now, keeping Juice in his arms, but just as desperate and needy as Juice, pressed beneath his husband’s and baby boy’s bodies. He was still passive, his body moving solely because of Daddy’s thrusts, yet the feeling of his cock no less forceful, pounding deep into Juice’s ass.  
  
Papi’s balls slapped against his heated skin and Juice whined.  
  
“D-daddy, may I… please, touch Papi’s balls?”  
“Greedy boy… Stay still, Ronea.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Juice could hardly believe his eyes when, instead of simply leaning Papi forward, Daddy pulled them both out, hooked his arms under Papi’s knees, _lifting_ him just enough for Juice to reach.  
  
“Slow, laddie. Yer Papi is sensitive, gotta be careful with’im.”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
  
He wetted his hand before taking Papi’s sack. Papi was panting, his balls filled and a solid weight in Juice’s palm, smooth and slick.   
  
“Jesus fucking Christ, _baby boy…_ ”  
“You like it, Papi?”  
“Y-yes, baby boy… Papi likes it lots… Jus’… Filip… Filip, please, I…”  
“Tha’s enough, Juicy. Let go of Papi an’ stay still like a good boy.”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Ronea, baby, are ye okay?”  
“I’m good, husband. Just… needed a breather.”  
“Catch yer breath then, lovey… I’ve got ye. Got ye too, lil’ one. Daddy’s got his boys.”  
  
Juice swallowed.  
  
”Are you hurt, Papi?”  
”No, baby boy, not at all. Papi just gets overwhelmed too, sometimes, sweetheart. Papi hasn’t had his cock inside anyone in a very, very long time… And his baby boy is so tight…”  
  
Daddy kissed Papi’s neck, nibbled a bit and Papi’s breathing went down again. Juice sat up as much as he could, leaning onto Papi’s chest, kissing his collarbones.  
  
“Love you, Papi. Felt so good… having you in me…”  
“Papi loves you too, baby boy. You still want my cock, sweetheart?”  
“Yes, please.”  
“Filip…”  
“C’mere, lovey…”  
  
Papi was now the one cradled in the middle and Juice nuzzled him, whining softly as he felt their cocks rub together and Daddy gave a soothing pet on his shoulder.  
  
“Ye wannae kiss Papi, lil’ one?”  
“May I? Can I kiss you, Papi?”  
“Of course, baby boy… Love that mouth of yours…”  
  
How his lovers could be so soothing, so focused on tenderness even now, was a truly amazing thing. Both Papi and Daddy held their arms around him, Papi’s on the small of his back, Daddy’s around his shoulders. They didn’t rush, didn’t seem to care at all if they got off until they were sure Juice felt good. Juice searched for Papi’s lips, found them and nibbled at the lower one, tasting from all three of them now.   
  
Daddy moved his warm hands lower, kneading fingers down Juice’s spine and as he reached the tailbone, he rubbed his thumbs in small circles, causing Juice to moan into Papi’s mouth and the man smiled.  
  
“You think Daddy will let us come, baby boy?”  
  
Papi’s voice was low and husky now and Juice just gasped, but then relaxation took over again, with the firm presence of his Daddie’s hands and bodies. Papi’s cock was so hard against him and Juice mewled into his neck.  
  
“Please, Daddy… let your lil’ one have Papi’s cock again?”  
“Ye want him to fuck ye, lil’ one?”  
“N-no, Daddy… Want you to… fuck me with it…”  
  
There was a moan from Papi.  
  
“God, he’s _so good_ , Fiip…”  
“Aye, lovey, he is… Unlock him.”  
  
Juice was almost too far gone now to be bothered by the nimble hands removing the ring that had prevented him from coming and then Papi leaned back, let himself be all controlled by Daddy. Juice couldn’t help himself, he swirled his legs around his lovers and cried out.  
  
“Harder, _please…_ ”  
  
The thrusts turned to a pounding, Papi’s hips slamming harder against him, his cock so deep Juice gasped from it and his orgasm built up, his well-fucked hole clenching hard around Papi and he came untouched, his cock pulsing all over his belly as he whimpered. Papi was panting too.  
  
“Baby boy… I… Filip, may I come?”  
“Come, lovey… Come in our laddie for me…”  
  
Juice couldn’t take his eyes off Papi, had to watch his beautiful lover come undone, filling him while being filled himself. His own body was still spasming from the orgasm, he was hyper-sensitive when Papi rained down inside him, moaning filthy, hips stuttering and Daddy held his submissive husband pressed against his chest. The veins on Papi’s arms stood out, he kept letting himself be moved for as long as his cock allowed it, while Daddy finally took what was his.  
  
“Ronea, love, lean forward…”  
  
For once, Papi didn’t answer, just obeyed and a moment later, Juice felt warm cum on his cock, dripping down from Papi’s hole and Daddy groaned, hands gripping Papi’s hips tightly, never for a moment loosing control as he came over both his boys.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just need your Daddy's care and Papi's raspberry cordial...

He could feel Papi slip out, the cum rinning down both from his own hole and from Papi’s. Daddy caught him, arms strong around his husband as he held him for a moment. Then he left the bed and carefully moved Juice a little way out from the middle. Papi just stood on his knees, still panting and his eyes heavy, waiting until Daddy came back to lay him down too. Papi made a small sound and Daddy pressed a small kiss onto his temple.  
  
“No, lovey. Ye rest now, I’ll handle this.”  
  
Papi just nodded then and let himself be laid down next to his baby boy, reaching his arm out. Juice immediately curled into his embrace, Papi couldn’t talk and he had a strange look on his face Juice quite couldn’t read.  
  
“You okay, Papi?”  
  
Juice was almost shocked at how hoarse his voice sounded and how dry his throat felt. But Papi just smiled, blissfully, and nodded. He mimed “you?” back and Juice nodded too, smiling because how could he not. Then he snuggled into his Papi’s chest and closed his eyes.  
  
Daddy spread the cover over them, despite the warmth and Juice almost wanted to protest but then he felt Papi shiver. They were both more or less drenched in sweat and needed to dry and cool down. Daddy tucked them in, lifted their heads to turn their pillows and Juice let out a pleased hum from the cooling feeling against his cheek. Daddy kissed his hair again.  
  
“Are ye alright, lil’ one?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Now, ye need to stay here for a little while, my boy. I know ye think it’s too warm and sticky, but ye need to come down slowly.”  
“Okay, Daddy.”  
“Good boy.”  
  
Daddy then went to the other side of the bed, curling around his husband.  
  
“My love… How are ye feeling, baby?”  
  
There was a whisper Juice, despite being tucked in Papi’s arms, couldn’t quite hear, but he felt the smile against his sweaty neck and then he knew everything was good. Papi just needed to come down from the high too. They were both sticky almost all over and Juice would’ve liked to wash it off, but even if he’d been allowed to, he doubted he’d been able to move. Daddy put an arm around them.  
  
“I’m gonnae get ye something to drink, sweet boys… Just rest now.”  
  
Juice’s and Papi’s answers were more like small sounds than actual words, but it didn’t matter now. This was all Daddy’s thing to handle, bringing his boys back to the now safely. Juice and Papi had no responsibilities now, this was their time to let go of absolutely everything if they wanted to. If they could.  
  
Juice couldn’t really put a name on what he felt and for once, it didn’t bother him in the least. His whole body was completely relaxed, no unfulfilled needs bothering him, not even his dry mouth because he knew Daddy would be back soon. Papi was heavy now, not the busy housekeeper, the attentive husband or controlled caretaker. Just an exhausted, satisfied lover, unbothered by whatever was going on outside his little space of complete freedom.   
  
When Daddy came back, he had two cups with straws and Juice didn’t even feel embarressed when his head was lifted and the straw placed between his lips. He’d expected water, but it was sweet and he made a surprised hum.  
  
“Ye need some sugar right now, lil’ one, an’ Papi’s raspberry cordial will do the trick. Ye’ve burnt a lot of energy today, Juicyboy. Drink as much as ye can.”  
  
He did have a sweet tooth and Papi’s raspberry cordial was a huge favourite so Juice didn’t need to be asked twice. He eagerly drank his fill of the cold, sweet drink and Daddy then took a damp cloth to his face.   
  
“Good boy, now lay down again.”  
  
Usually, too much sugar was a bad idea, but somewhere in his very clouded and slow mind, Juice realised that he felt as exhausted as after a hard workout right now and once again, Daddy had taken care of him before Juice even knew what he needed. He felt Papi have his share, using the straw as well, and then he laid back down, forehead leaning onto Juice’s hair.  
  
Daddy checked their pulses, once again making sure they were properly tucked in and then he opened the window and placed the rather large fan on Papi’s nightstand. The soothing breeze was just what Juice needed now and he sighed happily into Papi’s chest. The small amount of sugar helped too and the slight dizziness gave away for a deep, sweet sleep.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major TW in this chapter, as we're diving into the not at all pleasant past again, before Ronea and Filip became a couple, while Ronea was still together with an absolutely disgusting person named AJ Weston, the nazi from SoA who's first name I've decided to be Aaron. Ronea and Filip aren't yet a couple.
> 
> I warn you, this chapter contains some of the worst among the tags. Check them to be sure you're okay with them.

**Lodi, 24 years earlier**  
  
“Red! Red, fucking _red_ , Aaron!”  
”Sir, bitch! It’s _sir_ to you!”  
”P-please, sir, _red_ … I-I can’t take anymore, you’re really hurting me, Aaron. Stop!”  
”You whiny ass bitch… Three more.”  
  
Ronea screamed out loud as the whip lashed down onto his back. He was badly hurt from his shoulders down to his knee caps and the cuffs were carving into his wrists. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he was sobbing far too loud, but he really couldn’t help himself right now. When the third strike came, there was no way he could stop crying.  
  
Aaron came closer, pressing onto his burning backside and Ronea fell sick from it.  
  
“Got what you wanted, didn’t you? My perverted little pet… Oh, stop crying, Ronnie…”  
“Ro-ronea…”  
“I call you whatever I wanna call you, _pet_. Now stay still.”  
  
Ronea didn’t move, was too afraid, too sore and his face heated from being called pet, but not in a good way. This wasn’t what they’d agreed on, this was out of control, Aaron didn’t have control over himself and he took it out on Ronea. He made him bleed.  
  
Aaron unlocked the handcuffs, as usual not bothering with stroking the cramps out of Ronea’s wrists and then simply arranged him to lean onto the desk.  
  
“Legs wide, bitch.”  
“P-please, sir, I… I’m too sore. I think I’m gonna faint…”  
  
The chuckle beneath him made Ronea’s blood chill and he received another hard lash, this time on his right hip, almost at his belly.  
  
“Spread fucking open, _Ronnie_.”  
  
He wanted to shove him off, wanted to walk out, no run, but he couldn’t. Instead, Rodnea found himself spreading wide, bracing himself and then choking on the shout that wanted to slip. Aaron liked it more than rough and didn’t use enough lube now, leaving Rodnea feeling ill with pain and terrified from the game that had turned into something else entirely, something he had no control over what so ever.  
  
It wasn’t rape. It wasn’t.  
  
The words were repeating in his head as he did his best to muffle his cries, burning with pain, fear and a humiliation he’d never seen coming.  
  
It wasn’t rape. He kept silent. It wasn’t rape because he didn’t say no. It wasn’t rape, he liked it rough, it wasn’t…  
  
He came. It made his stomach turn, but Aaron had snaked a hand around his cock and roughly jerked him off, Ronea’s body betraying him completely. In the next moment, he was falling.  
  
When he woke up, he was in bed. Aaron must’ve carried him there, which was nice and all, but as soon as he moved, Ronea hissed from pain and remembered. The tv in the livingroom was on, he could hear Aaron moving his usual beer back and forth, putting it down on the table. A small purr came from the door and Leah came up to him.  
  
“Hey, girl…”  
  
A little jump, that funny noise when she landed and then Ronea had soft fur, purrs and kneading paws on his sore body.  
  
“Come to daddy, Leah.”  
  
The grey creature bumped heads with him, giving kitty kisses and licked over Ronea’s sticky face with her coarse tongue. Furry comfort, gentleness Aaron should’ve given to him. Breaking the rules like this wasn’t BDSM. He’d ignored the safety word completely and for the first time, Ronea slowly realised his boyfriend hadn’t actually lost control. He’d simply ignored the rules.  
  
It wasn… _It wasn’t…_  
It was. Rape.  
  
Ronea tried to cry as silent as possible, just letting it out into the pillow before the sickening feeling of shame and fear took over. When he heard steps, he tensed and curled into a ball.  
  
“Babydoll… Look, I’m sorry, Ron. I lost control a little bit.”  
  
Low voice, concerned. Now gentle hands and body spooning him.  
  
“It was only a game, babe, you know that. And you asked _me_.”  
  
_It’s your fault._ Said in a velvet voice, yet the words weren’t soft.  
  
“You know how passionate I get, babydoll. I just… loose my mind around you sometimes.”  
  
_You made me loose control._  
  
“I love you so much, Ron, you know that. You know I’d never hurt you for real.”  
_  
But I could._  
    
“You ignored the safety words.”  
“I didn’t hear you, I swear!”  
  
_You should’ve been louder. Bitch._  
  
“It was like… I was gone somewhere else, you know. It was crazy, babe, I felt like…”  
  
_I didn’t have to care about anything and I didn’t._  
  
“Both my wrists are twisted.”  
“Look, I already said I’m sorry.”  
“I’m supposed to work tomorrow, Aaron.”  
“So call in sick.”  
“That would be the sixth time in two months.”  
“So?”  
“I’ll loose my job and I have rent to pay.”  
“If you just moved in with me, you wouldn’t have to worry.”  
  
Ronea cringed inside.  
  
”You know I’m not ready for that yet.”  
“Yeah, yeah… A few years on your own is necessary to grow up, or what was it your mom said again?”  
“She wasn’t wrong.”  
“Whatever. I’m hungry, babe. You wanna grab a burger or something?”  
”I’m not hungry.”  
”Suit yourself then. I’m going to the game with Patrick later.”  
_  
Please, just leave.  
_  
Aaron pressed a kiss on his hair and rose.  
  
“See you tomorrow then.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Don’t forget your phone if you’re going somewhere.”  
“I wont.”  
  
When the door closed and enough seconds had passed for him to be sure Aaron hadn’t forgotten anything and would come back, Ronea took a deep breath and sobbed into the pillow, until he had no more tears left. Then he slowly rose to see what damage had been done this time.  
  
The bathroom mirror was rarely his friend these days. Not that Ronea had ever considered himself a catch, but the sight meeting him now was simply awful. He looked ill, really fucking ill.  
  
Usually, when Aaron had beaten him, Ronea took care of it himself and made sure he was as presentable as possible before he had to go somewhere, but this was different. Aaron had never before crossed this line, never ignored safe words or actually beaten him while they had sex.  
  
Sex that turned to rape. And really harsh whipping.  
  
Ronea felt his stomach flip and he threw up. His sight was blurry and finally, whatever sense of self-preservation he had left, took charge. He waited until his stomach was calm, flushed, rinsed and then stumbled back into the bedroom.  
  
In the corner of the wall closest to the window, the mopboard was loose. It wasn’t visible and Aaron had never noticed. Ronea slowly kneeled on the floor and with shaky fingers and one ear pointed towards the hallway in case Aaron would come back anyway, he pulled out the small piece of paper with a number. He’d never inteded to use it again, didn’t even know why he’d saved it, but Ronea wasn’t himself right now. He stared at the paper and the phone for a good ten minutes before he did what he’d been dead sure he wouldn’t do.  
  
***  
  
“Ye want some tea?”  
”Tea?”  
”My coffee’s crap.”  
”Ah, yes, you’re a Brit.”  
  
Filip looked good. Really good, actually, and had they met in another time and place with no Aaron anywhere close, maybe things could’ve been… well, nicer. Ronea tried to sit normally on the small couch, but it hurt badly and he could tell Filip saw it.  
  
“Ye’ve had Advil or something?”  
“No.”  
”Booze?”  
”Nope.”  
”Weed?”  
”No, _sister_.”  
”Still not a nurse.”  
”Or Irish.”  
  
The smile was pretty. The scars didn’t bother Ronea one bit. He didn’t know how Filip had gotten them and didn’t care to ask. He was still a handsome man. Hot even. And nice. He fetched Advil and water and Ronea swallowed gratefully.  
  
“Are ye bleeding?”  
  
It took a second for Ronea to realise Filip meant his ass and he blushed.  
  
“No.”  
“Alright.”  
  
Filip gave him a small tube.  
  
“Ye should… use some of this.”  
  
There was no spite, no accusation, nothing but kindness and concern in the distinct voice and for the second time that night, Ronea broke down crying. Only this time, there was a different pair of arms holding him. Not as broad and muscled, but far more steady. Arms that didn’t have to hurt him first, in order to comfort.  
  
“Lay down, darlin’.”  
  
As if knowing how bad it would be, Filip didn’t lay down with him, but sat on the floor, just holding his hand and stroking his neck. They stayed like that for a while, not talking, with Filip patiently waiting for Ronea to finish crying. Leah walked around in Filip’s apartment, inspecting her temporary domains. When Ronea had calmed down enough for the sobs to turn into small sniffles, the scarred Scotsman stroke a finger under his eyes.  
  
“Does he know ye’re not at home?”  
“Left a note. Said I’m seeing mom. Gotta… find a motel, or something…”  
”Ye can stay here, ye know.”  
”Don’t want to cause you anymore trouble. I just… I didn’t know who to call…”  
  
God, that sounded like he was just using Filip as an unofficial E.R. but the man didn’t seem offended at all.  
  
“I’m glad ye called. Ye did the right thing, Ron, an’ I’m not allergic to cats either, so really, there’s no trouble.”  
“I’m a fucking idiot.”  
“How so?”  
”I like it rough, you know. He… I could’ve…”  
”Stop it.”  
  
The man’s voice was firm now, had almost a little edge to it, but not angry or accusatory. Ronea looked at the scarred face, surprised. Filip swallowed.  
  
“Ye had safewords?”  
”Yes.”  
”Ye used them?”  
”Yeah, but…”  
”But what?”  
”He… he may not have heard me…”  
“Mary, Mother o’ Christ…”  
“Look, I could’ve been louder…”  
“Stop it, darlin’… Please, just…”  
  
The Scot shook his head is disbelief and Ronea realised he wasn’t disgusted, he was appalled. Filip looked absolutely horrified and incredulous, as if he’d never heard of something like this. Ronea bit his lip.  
  
“It’s not… I… It’s never happened before, he didn’t…”  
“Mean it?”  
“Please, Filip, I didn’t know who else to call and I… I’m sorry, man, I should go.”  
“Stay. Please, Ronea, don’ go. Let me help ye, darlin’. I’m glad ye called, ye hear tha’? Been thinkin’ a lot ’bout ye… Was a bloody brave thing to do, ye know.”  
”Yeah sure… BDSM going wrong…”  
”Wha’ he did aint BDSM! It’s abuse.”  
”And how would you know?”  
“Because I’m in the scene myself, ye tool.”  
  
Ronea stared at him and Filip sighed.  
  
“Aye, I’m a mechanic an’ biker, a volunteer health care worker on occasion an’ I’ve been into the scene since I was eighteen. I know how it’s supposed to work an’ lemme tell ye, _this_ aint it, Ronea. It’s abuse an’ no one deserves tha’. Arseholes like yer bloke are jus’ abusers. There’s no other word for’em an’ especially not doms. Jesus Christ, how long did he have ye cuffed, huh?”  
  
Filip took Ron’s wrists in his hands, very carefully stroking the markings. They were red now, but would darken to bruises soon.  
  
“This… this is just so wrong, darlin’. So fucking _wrong_ …”  
  
***  
  
This wasn’t healthy. He looked at the now sleeping man in his bed. He would take the couch himself, Ronea needed the small bed more. Not to mention the space. Filip took out a fag from his package and stepped out on the balcony. The air was unusually cool for this time of year and the neighborhood fairly silent at three in the morning.  
  
It was stupid, what he felt for Ronea. Hell, they didn’t know each other and Filip was the last person on Earth to think of shite like fate, but he’d never stopped thinking of the gangly man in the E.R. and now, after they’d seen each other just two more times, he was laying in Filip’s bed, along with a cat.  
  
It was ridiculous, because you didn’t just have a crush on someone that needed your help. Even if said someone was hot, had a wicked sense of humour, was clearly intelligent and had a fucking gorgeous smile. It wasn’t just ridiculous, but potentially harmful. Filip was a very dominant lover, yes, but he’d never engaged with a victim of abuse, at least not to his knowledge. The idea of even having a date with someone as vulnerable as Ronea, honestly made Filip cringe. But whatever Filip felt, this wasn’t about him at all.  
  
Crushes weren’t something Filip let himself be controlled by. He’d been with his fair share of men – and women before he realised they weren’t for him – and as far as he was concerned, people made huge promises and gestures, used too many big words to describe shite that would pass in a few months. Anyone could _fall_ in love. Staying put and keep loving was a whole different story and Filip had always felt a bit weird for not being able to take that lightly, not even as a teen high on hormones.  
  
Ronea, how ever… The man was hot, pretty too, and his smile made Filip feel like a clumsy hick. He wanted to protect him, keep him safe, see how that smile would look like when the man was actually _happy._  
  
He also wanted to kill his so called boyfriend, the rapist. This fucking scumbag. Ronea moved in the bed.  
  
“Filip…”  
“I’m here.”  
“Can you… hold me…?”  
  
Filip put his fag out and walked over to the restless man. Ronea was still dressed and Filip left his own jeans and wifebeater on as he spooned him. The sore body was very tense and Filip made sure there was a little distance between them. Ronea made a small huff.  
  
“You really are one of the good guys…”  
“Everyone’s not a fucking scumbag.”  
“No, I mean, even those who aren’t… You’re like… a decent fucking dude, you know.”  
“Well… thanks… I guess. I just call it being normal.”  
”Your parents must’ve been good at their job.”  
  
Filip chuckled.  
  
“They weren’t bad.”  
“They’re dead?”  
“No. They live in Glasgow. Haven’t seen’em for a while, though.”  
“Long way to go for a visit.”  
“Aye.”  
“They know about you being gay?”  
“Unfortunately.”  
“Oh… Mine didn’t… exactly approve either. My dad is still convinced I’m gonna end up with Aids.”  
”Mine’s just worried I’m not goin’ to heaven. Maw’s a wee bit more relaxed. Disappointed ‘bout the whole grandkids thing, but nothing more, really. Wha’ ‘bout yers?”  
“My mom’s dead.”  
“I’m sorry, Ronea.”  
“It’s okay, it happened a long time ago. Cancer’s a bitch, you know.”  
“Amen to tha’.”  
“My dad is… worried, I guess. This whole Aids thing really got him worked up, so he keeps sending me pamphlets from, you know, gay conversion shit. He aint really religious, but… you know how it is.”  
“Aye.”  
  
He did. They both did. Some things didn’t need to be explained.  
  
“Thank you.”  
“For what?”  
“Being a good guy. You’re… gonna make some dude really happy, you know.”  
  
Filip swallowed. Ronea’s bruised nape was right in front of him, the long hair slipping over the shoulder and the wifebeater exposing more of the soft, battered skin.  
  
“Ye should have tha’…”  
“Have what?”  
“Someone who makes ye happy.”  
“Already have that.”  
“No, ye don’t…”  
“Really? Then what do you think you’re doing right now?”  
”Protection aint happiness.”  
”Maybe not to you…”  
  
***

The next morning, Ronea woke up with unfamiliar arms around him. Lots of ink, just like Aaron’s, but that was the only similarity, even though the patterns were completely different. The hands cradling him hadn’t wandered off, hadn’t tugged at or sneaked under his clothes. Ronea was still dressed, so was Filip, and the duvet that was too warm to use, had been folded and put between them, a discrete barrier from any potential morning wood poking against his ass.  
  
Kindness. Gentleness. Caring.  
  
”Ye’re awake, darlin’?”  
”Yeah…”  
”Had nightmares…”  
”I did?”  
”Ye don’ remember?”  
”No…”  
  
He honestly didn’t. He felt quite rested despite the pain in his back and ass and Filip’s arms were still very gentle. Protective.  
  
”You’re a nice spoon, you know.”  
“Aye?”  
  
Filip chuckled and the warm breath against Ronea’s nape made him shiver. The good kind, for once.  
  
“Ye’re cold, darlin’?”  
“No. Do you call all your patients darling?”  
“Hardly. I don’ have’em sleepin’ in ma bed either.”  
“On. I’m on your bed, not in it.”  
“True.”  
  
Ronea took a deep breath, swallowing.  
  
“Are we just gonna pretend that you’re… letting me crash here soley for some medically ethical reasons or because you’re a decent guy?”  
“Don’ know. Are we?”  
“I have a boyfriend.”  
“Aye. An’ he doesn’t deserve ye.”  
”But you do?”  
”Didn’t say tha’, darlin’.”  
  
Filip sighed.  
  
”I… I like ye, Ronea. A lot. Ye’re smart, funny… Makin’ me laugh a lot, ye know.”  
“Yeah, I’m a funny guy.”  
“Please, don’t… talk yerself down like tha’. Ye deserve better, Ronea.”  
“You hardly know me. An E.R. visit and two lunchbreak coffees aint equal to knowing me.”  
“No, but… we’re not complete strangers anymore, alright.”  
“No… I guess not. And for what it’s worth I… really like you too.”  
   
Too fragile. Too close. Too fucking dangerous. But then there was a small kiss on his nape, just the one.  
  
“I’ll make us some eggs. Ye want coffee?”  
“Yes… please.”  
  
Filip carefully loosened himself from the cradling position and Ronea felt how he tucked the duvet around him, as if he didn’t want him to be cold, before walking out to the small kitchen. Ronea remained on the couch, listening to the sounds of a frying pan and eggs cracking. He could smell the coffee and Filip’s cigarrette and then he heard something that made Leah leave her spot at his feet, padding towards the noise.  
  
“Aye, mornin’ to ye too, lass. Wan’ some tuna for yer brekkie, aye?”  
  
Kindness. Gentleness. _Caring._ The sound of a fucking can opener. The things that could make a man cry…  
  
People who weren’t nice to animals, usually weren’t very nice to humans either. But this man was and it was overwhelming, so while Leah was munching on her tuna and the frying pan was put to the side, breakfast cooking interrupted, Ronea cried in this Scotman’s arms, this man who didn’t ridicule him, who wasn’t impatient or unkind.  
  
He was gentle. Strong. He smelled like… home.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back into Daddy's memories over a spiked tea in the kitchen. And may I, sadly, present to you: June Stahl. She just sneaked her way into this story, I refuse to take responsibility for it!

Filip removed the teabag, squeezed it over the sink and threw it in the trashcan. A small drop had fallen on the otherwise spotless surface and Filip automatically took the rag from the tap and wiped it up. The kitchen was Ronea’s area, but leaving a mess, even a small one, was disrespectful. When he was done, Filip poured a small amount of Scotch in the cup and walked out to the backyard.  
  
Sitting down in one of the chairs, he lit a smoke and tucked the robe a little tighter around him. He sighed as the nicotine kicked in and sipped on the hot, bitter tea. This was his coming down time. His boys were taken care of, properly tended to and hopefully sleeping calmly. They’d both been so good, so trusting and obedient, and Filip was filled with admiration for them.  
  
He knew his Ronea inside out. Knew his wounds, the secret ones as well as the more open, and his fears and needs. How could he not, after twentyfour years? It was beyond Filip’s comprehension how a long-term spouse couldn’t know, how it was possible to not _want_ to know your partner’s needs. What could be more important in a relationship, than the wish and effort to make each other happy? From the day he’d realised he was in love with Ronea, Filip had wanted nothing more than making him feel safe, happy and loved.  
  
Once, many years ago, a then new friend of Ronea’s, had accused Filip of domestic abuse. It had been an ugly scene, Filip coming home to find his husband crying by the kitchen table and June Stahl hoovering over him like a hawk. Filip immediately saw that Ronea hunched because he tried to avoid June’s unwanted comfort, but she obviously thought it was a sign of fear of _him._   
  
Staying calm in that moment, was one of the hardest things Filip had done, controlling his anger in order to keep Ronea calm. His husband was afraid, confused and dangerously close to an actual panic attack, which was the last thing Filip wanted to cause. Instead of doing what his instincts told him and simply push their friend aside to hold his baby, Filip had forced himself to sit down very calmly, close enough that he could reach out to his terrified husband, even if he didn’t.  
  
June had went on about Filip having forced Ronea to stay at home, for hitting and controlling him and while she was talking, Filip watched his husband become more and more anxious. When the woman finally took a break, Filip had time to ask her, calm and seemingly relaxed, how she’d come to this conclusion. He didn’t accuse her of lying, knowing it would only make her more agitated, and June told him that she’d seen signs for many months now. How Ronea didn’t work, claimed he didn’t need to, how he always checked in with Filip before deciding if he could go out and how June herself, this very afternoon, accidently had walked in on Ronea while he was dressing.  
  
The thought of anyone walking in on his husband while dressing after a shower, something not even Filip did out of respect, was nothing but a pure insult to both of them and had it not been for Ronea’s frightened expression, Filip would’ve kicked this woman out on her fucking nose. Instead, he crossed his arms, looking stearnly at June, asking if she always sneaked up on her friends while dressing. He didn’t show any anger, not because he didn’t feel any, but to soothe Ronea and also allay June’s suspicion. In a way, he actually admired her for her concern, because it wasn’t an easy thing, accusing a quite large man for domestic abuse in his own home.  
  
On the other hand, it was so painfully obvious how she’d completely overthrown Ronea, not listened to him one bit and his humiliation was written all over him. They’d been married for little more than two years and only recently started to try out letting Ronea stay at home fulltime instead of working. Their apartment was small and they both longed for a house, but together they’d come to the conclusion that since Ronea got so stressed out from working outside the home, it was worth waiting a bit longer for a house so he could stay at home.  
  
It wasn’t as if his husband was chained to the stove. He went out on long walks, met friends downtown, went to the library and certaintly didn’t spend every night at home with Filip. On the contrary, Filip had spent a lot of time since they’d moved in together, to make sure Ronea didn’t feel controlled in the wrong way. Everyone who knew Ronea, should be able to see how much better he felt since their wedding, how he’d practically blossomed from the first day as a fulltime housekeeper. Now, June Stahl was making him feel bad about it.  
  
“You’re treating him like fucking Handmaid’s Tale, Filip! Keeping him here, having him do all the chores for you like you’re the fucking king or something.”  
  
She’d went on for a good while, talking so angrily Filip found it better not to try and interrupt her in fear of making Ronea more upset. Instead he listened to the hurtful accusations, because yes, it was fucking hurtful, being compared to an abuser. On the other hand, knowing how few would dare to step in, remembering Ronea’s isolation when he was with that pig Weston, Filip honestly felt that she tried to do the right thing. If he could only explain it to her, if Ronea could feel calm and safe enough to talk to her as well, they should be able to sort this out. In theory.  
  
The reality turned out quite more difficult and while trying to tell her as much as possible, without getting it too explicit, Filip didn’t feel like she actually listened, or was willing to understand. He offered to show her their marriage contract, signed and witnessed by mutual as well as separate friends. He mentioned the evaluation from Dr. Tara Knowles, declaring Ron completely capable of making this choice and that of course, this vow of obedience didn’t mean anything in terms of actual forensic matters.  
  
Apparantly, none of that meant shite to June either, and she’d tried to persuade Ronea to come with her, offered to send someone for him but fortunately, her bony arse was way smaller than theirs and eventually, she had to give up and walk out, leaving Filip to care for his husband’s predictable meltdown she was responsible for.  
  
The worst thing was that Ronea had fallen so deep down into chaos, there was simply no way for Filip to handle him without spanking. He’d rather not started with that, but their balance and boundaries had been horribly disturbed in a very unexpected manner and Ronea desperately needed them reset. Filip couldn’t rage or cry or look out of control now, no way. His husband’s needs always came first and he very calmly told Ronea that in order for them to talk, he had to calm down and that Filip would take him over his lap to help him doing that.  
  
Ronea had almost thrown himself over him, not even pulling his pants down and Filip did it for him, before delivering a good amount of firm, controlled blows onto his beautiful arse. It helped, it always did, and Filip could almost feel the tension go away as he reddened the skin. When he was done, he cuddled his husband as usual, let him cry for as long as he needed and then, they’de talked until Ronea had put words on every fearful feeling June had elicited in him and together with Filip, could draw them out like poison from a wound, while finding out which feeling was the worst.  
  
Filip sipped on his tea, lost in the memory as he lit another fag. It was a painful memory, how Ronea had felt so ashamed of himself, of his needs and wants. How that woman who was supposed to be his friend, had made him feel like a failure and looser, incapable of knowing his own needs and boundaries. Those things had hurt Ronea far more than the accusations against Filip, simply because it was a wound not yet healed. The secret shame of needing to be controlled and cared for.  
  
How could Ronea, or Filip, make anyone outside their circles, truly understand that? That letting go of control, didn’t have to be a sign of weakness or abuse. That freedom didn’t look the same for all. Caring for Ronea, and now also Juice, was the greatest task Filip could imagine. With that amount of power and trust, came great responsibility and constant proof of his capacity to control his own needs. Just as there was an order of command in this house, there was one for pleasure too and it went the other way around.   
  
Filip finished his scotch spiked tea and cleaned the cup, drying it too before putting it back into the neat cupboard and hanging the towel over the stove handle. His big lad would be tired tomorrow and on a few occasions, Filip would break a rule or two for his sake, because the last thing Ronea needed in the morning, was a messy kitchen. With a pleased little smirk, Filip put the lights out, closed the kitchen door and walked back to bed.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horny Daddy, happy Juicy, annoyed Papi ;)

Only here, Juice could go to bed early and go out like a candle. At some point, Papi had brought toothbrush, water and a small bowl so Juice could make a quick brushing, but that was about what he’d managed to do before snuggling down between his Daddies. He was curled into Papi’s chest when he woke up and as usual, Daddy spooned him from behind, morning wood poking against his ass and Juice wiggled a little, to make it slip more between his cheeks.  
  
He’d not had Daddy’s cock this time, didn’t know if he’d be offered it, but nontheless, a little rubbing wasn’t against the rules, especially not when Daddy was spooning him like this.  
  
“Morning to ye too, lil’ one…”  
  
Daddy whispered and there was a smile in his voice. Juice rubbed back again.  
  
”Restless, Daddy…”  
”That so, huh? Wha’ should Daddy do about tha’?”  
“Put me in place, Daddy? Put your baby boy in place with your cock…?”  
“Naughty lad… Why don’ ye ask Papi if he approves?”  
  
Juice leaned into Papi, nuzzling his throat.  
  
“Papi? Papi…?”  
”Mhm… baby boy, your awake?”  
”Uh-huh. Papi? Juicy has a question.”  
  
Papi yawned.  
  
”Then ask away, baby boy.”  
”May… may I have Daddy’s cock?”  
“Filip, baby… what time is it?”  
“Uhm… seven forty, lovey.”  
”Jesus Christ, it’s _Sunday_ , boys!”  
  
Daddy just chuckled at Papi’s groan.   
  
”Ye approve, lovey?”  
”Knock yourselves out, but please, let your husband and Papi sleep.”  
“Thank ye, darlin’. Should we move elsewhere?”  
“Not unless you plan on being… ”  
  
Papi yawned again.  
  
”…loud or coming all over my face.”  
“How ‘bout yer hair?”  
  
For that, Daddy was greeted with a faceful of pillow.  
  
“How about I serve you overcooked toast and running eggs for breakfast for a week or two?”  
  
Daddy chuckled again and kissed Papi’s hair.  
  
”Go back to yer beauty sleep, lovey. Not that ye need it…”  
“Filip?”  
“Aye?”  
“ _Please_ , let me sleep.”  
  
Papi turned onto his side with a groan, buried his face in the pillow and pulled the cover over him. Daddy winked at Juice, who bit down a giggle before it would disturb Papi again. Daddy pulled him closer, spooning him properly and started stroking his cock. Daddy nibbled his nape.  
  
“Can ye be silent for Papi, Juicyboy?”  
“I’ll try, Daddy.”  
“Good boy.”  
  
They were whispering as low as possible, even if Papi already had fallen asleep again. Daddy snagged the lube and syringe from his nightstand.  
  
“Ye wan’ my fingers first, laddie, or jus’ my cock?”  
“Please, Daddy, just your cock. Slow.”  
”Always, lil’ one. Always. Move yer leg, lovey…”  
  
Juice sighed happily into the pillow, when Daddy slid the syringe inside him. He wasn’t at all tense now, his muscles relaxing naturally around the intrusion. Daddy removed it slowly and lifted Juice’s leg up a bit, rubbing carefully against his hole. Juice did his best to stay still and was rewarded with a slow pushing inside.   
  
“Ye like tha’, Juicyboy?”  
“Yes, Daddy. Feels so good.”  
  
Daddy cradled him, locked his arms so he couldn’t touch himself and started a slow grind, almost too slow, but so good Juice had to press his mouth into the bend of Daddy’s arm to not get too loud. Daddy was more controlled in that manner, but even he was breathing a little heavier, moaning into Juice’s neck when his baby boy squeezed around his cock.  
  
”Ye naughty boy… Need another spanking, do ye?”  
“N-no, Daddy.”  
  
He relaxed again and Daddy thrusted a little harder, deeper and Juice bit down into Daddy’s arm.  He was still sensitive from the previous night and usually faster to come in the mornings anyway. Daddy filled him up so good, Juice felt so _put in place_ with his cock in him.  
  
“Daddy?”  
“Aye, lovey?”  
“What would you do if… your baby boy let someone else fuck him, without asking Daddy first?”  
“Then… lil’ one, Daddy would make sure his baby boy wouldn’t… ah… sit for a week.”  
  
That had Juice moan far too loud, which really wasn’t his fault since Daddy was such a tease, but Papi of course, woke up.  
  
“Lord help me, Filip, you’re having _haggis_ until Christmas if you keep spurring him on like this.”  
“Sorry, lovey… We’ll keep it down, I promise.”  
“Nah, I think I better put the coffee on.”  
”So-sorry, Papi.”  
”It’s not your fault, baby boy. Your Daddy is a hopeless tease sometimes. I should know that better than most.”  
  
Papi kissed Juice’s hair and then his husband’s lips, smirking and a bit annoyed but absolutely not angry.  
  
“I expect both of you to have washed up and put clothes on in half an hour.”  
“Ye’re an angel, darlin’.”  
“I’m inclined to agree, husband.”  
  
Papi left the bed and put his black satin robe on before his husband or baby boy had a chance to gaze over his naked body. Papi was always hot, but right now, Juice simply found him awfully _cute_ with his hair in a mess, painted toes on his naked feet and eyes still sleepy. Daddy threw an airkiss at him.  
  
“I’ll make it up to ye, lovey.”  
”Oh, you _better_ , Mr. Telford-Tully.”  
  
Papi padded away from the bedroom and Daddy chuckled into Juice’s neck.  
  
“Wha’ do ye say, lil’ one? How should Daddy make this up to yer grumpy Papi?”  
  
Juice couldn’t answer right away, since Daddy conveniently decided to thrust inside him again. He mewled and took a deep breath.  
  
”Maybe… you could, take him out to dinner, Daddy? Somewhere… oh… somewhere nice?”  
“Tha’s a good idea, boy.”  
”Or maybe… a footrub? Ah, that’s… yeah, right there, Daddy…”  
”How about if Daddy bends ye over the couch again, boy… Spanking ye with my paddle in front of Papi like the first time…?”  
“Made me so horny, Daddy… Not while you did it, but when I came home… Your baby boy had to… ah… sit on his biggest dildo… Was so _naughty_ , Daddy… Your lil’ one was such a naughty boy…”  
  
Daddy turned him onto his stomach, pressing his legs wide apart and put a pillow under his stomach so that his ass was peaking up. Juice pressed up eagerly, shamelessly open and Daddy chuckled.  
   
“Cannae have my lil’ one cumming from his spankings, now can I? Wouldn’t be proper discipline, would it?”  
“N-nuh-uh, Daddy…”  
  
Daddy let his cock just tease around the hole and Juice whimpered, which earned him a small slap on his ass.  
  
“None of that, Juicyboy. Patience.”  
“Sorry, Daddy.”  
“Ye’re forgiven.”  
  
Daddy rubbed his buttocks, soothing him before making another hard thrust that made Juice see stars.  
  
“How about… since ye cannae seem to control yer cock when Daddy spanks ye…ah… Maybe Daddy should… put ye in a nappy?”  
“Daddieee! P-please, stop teasing me…”  
”Oh, ye don’ think I’m serious, lil’ one? Daddy could have ye cum in it… an’ let Papi change it for ye later… But before I let’im put ye on a fresh one, I’d let ye sit in yer cum-filled nappy by the dinner table… See ye squirm for me, yer bottom all red and hot…”  
  
Juice didn’t even need any stimulation on his cock. His Daddy’s fat shaft and filthy tongue picturing that utter humiliation did all the work for him and he clenched so hard, he locked Daddy inside him while pulsing all over Papi’s fine linen sheet. 


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember, this is humiliation kink, not ADBL or ageplay kink!

That Ronea Tully-Telford loved his kitchen was somewhat an understatement. When they’d bought their house, he and his husband had not really been prepared for all that needed to be fixed and so it had taken a long time and a lot of saving and hard work, until Ronea had the kitchen he wanted. While sipping on his much needed coffee and setting the table, Ronea couldn’t help but feeling a small pull of happiness in his stomach.  
  
Their everyday cups were old and slightly miscolored from years of use, but the ones for weekends were still white and neat. Every item, every set of porcelain had it’s special use, as had the different table mats, curtains and dishes. One kind of deep bowls for porridge and yoghurt, another one for soup, a third one for desserts. Filip’s evening tea cup had a dish, while the midmorning or afternoon cup between meals was a black mug. He usually had coffee in the morning. Glasses for breakfast orange juice were small, those for smoothies high and those used for lunch and dinner when there was no wine served, middlesized.  
  
From the very beginning, Ronea had loved this simple, ordinary domestic work. It made him calm, gave him a structure just as much as his weekly schedule, food menu and the recurring happenings throughout the year. Different seasons, months and annual events that shifted in a very predictable way, never taking him by surprise. In the first kitchen he shared with Filip, things had been much more crowded and difficult to make neat, but he’d still loved it and his then fiancé hadn’t ridiculed or been annoyed at him one bit for his very _unmanly_ habit. On the contrary, he’d encouraged it.  
  
For many years, they’d both thought it was mostly about safety, which was why it had taken quite some time before Filip allowed Ronea to stay at home fulltime. His husband was so thoughtful like that, Ronea mused as he stirred the porridge with one hand and cutted up bananas and strawberries with the other.  
  
“Hey, Papi.”  
  
Ronea turned around and as he saw the boy in the doorway, blushing like one of the roses in their garden, he smiled and opened his arms.  
  
“Giving Papi a hug, baby boy?”  
  
Of course he did and Ronea chuckled as he slapped the quite different shape of his boy’s ass.  
  
“What did you do to have Daddy put you in one of these, baby boy?”  
“Juice came over Papi’s sheets. A lot…”  
”Did you now?”  
”Yes, Papi. Juice did. Your little boy made a mess.”  
  
The very small shiver in his voice was of the good kind. His baby boy was _very_ embarressed, but in the way that he secretely loved. Filip had never tried this with Juice before, but Ronea wasn’t surprised. By wearing this through breakfast, it would give their baby boy one final assurance of safety and care, one more chance to feel absolutely small and controlled before they had to start the inevitable transformation from the baby boy back to the thirty year old middle manager who worked magic with his codes, not his ass and mouth.  
  
Ronea nuzzled his neck.  
  
“Maybe a little extra padding would do you good now, baby boy. Daddy fucked you hard, didn’t he?”  
“He did, Papi.”  
“I’m glad. You look so cute in it, sweetheart.”  
”Papi is teasing Juice now…”  
“Only because I love you so much and because you look so adorable when you’re blushing.”  
“Daddy said Juice had to wear it through breakfast. So I don’t make a mess again…”  
”Well, what Daddy says goes, baby boy. Sit down now, please.”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
  
Ronea had to force away a smile when he saw Juice sit down on his chair, properly like always, but clearly very aware of the diaper and the stickyness Filip most definately hadn’t wiped off before putting the thing on.  
  
“Did Daddy lock you up before you dressed, sweetheart?”  
“Yes, Papi.”  
“Good.”  
  
Thank God. Much as with the spankings, the humiliation was the biggest part in their baby boy’s kink and as much as Ronea loved the idea of Juice having another orgasm, the breakfast table wasn’t the right place for it.  
  
“Hey, darlin’…”  
“Hello, baby.”  
  
Filip almost looked a little ashamed, probably not about putting Juice in a diaper, but for ruining his husband’s sleep. Ronea gave him a sweet smile and kissed his scarred cheek.  
  
“Did you put the sheets in the laundry basket, love?”  
“Of course. And I opened the window.”  
“Thank you. Coffee and oatmeal?”  
“Yes, please, lovey.”  
  
Their breakfast was an unusually chatty one his Sunday and the precense of the diaper didn’t seem to make Juice any less willing to engage in conversation, smiling or even laughing. Ronea was very relieved by that, because it meant their boy felt safe with them. The bad kind of shame was not there anymore, meaning Ronea and Filip had made a good job this weekend. It would be three weeks until next time, not as long as prior to this time, but still a little bit too long for Ronea’s taste.  
  
He didn’t particularly like the idea of being away from his baby boy that long, neither did Filip and least of all Juice. Ronea sipped on his coffee, watching how Juice gave one of his bright smiles to his Daddy. Maybe the diaper was a good idea... 


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some parting words from Daddy and oh boy, I had no intention of having this porno turn into an actual story with content you know :p I'm gonna end this here simply because it was meant to be a "weekend" story and if I'm making more, I think it must be in a part two of some sort. 
> 
> Please, if you want this to continue, feel free to comment and give me feedback, tips and whatever. I must admit, turning Ron Tully from a creepy nazi rapist to a submissive domestic goddess might be one of the funniest things I've ever written and it's difficult not to continue :D
> 
> *kisses and hugs to y'all*

His bag was packed, the embarrassing diaper gone in the trash can and he’d had a shower alone. No locks or plugs, none of Papi’s many fragranced bath oils on his skin. It was necessary, Juice knew that, but it never ceased to hurt. In a couple of hours, he’d be back in his apartment, unpacking his bag and be Juice Ortiz, computor technician, mechanic, biker and shy nerd once again.   
  
Not that he’d ceased to be him this weekend, no. He’d simply been Daddy’s and Papi’s baby boy too. Now he had to leave that part of him here. Most of it.  
  
“How are ye doing, lil’ one?”  
  
Daddy, who if they spotted each other in public, would have to remain Filip Telford to him, was standing in the doorway, dressed in his usual jeans, wife-beater and thin hoodie.  
  
“I’m okay, Daddy.”  
  
There was a sniffle, he couldn’t control it, and the next moment, he was holding onto Daddy for dear life, crying into his wife-beater.   
  
“C-can’t help it, Daddy. I… I know we’ll see each other soon, but I just know I’m gonna miss you and Papi so much. Aint even gonna apologize for it.”  
“Good, ‘cause ye know what, lil’ one? We’ll miss ye too. _Terribly,_ darlin’.”  
  
Juice took a deep breath, still nuzzling the man’s chest.  
  
“I’m scared, Daddy.”  
“What are ye scared of, my lad?”  
“That… things will change, Daddy. Between us.”  
“Oh, my sweet, sweet laddie… If Daddy could, he’d make sure his lil’ one never felt scared of being alone, ever again.”  
  
Daddy pressed him hard onto his warm chest, kissing his hair.  
  
“It took three years before I married Papi, Juicy. Three years of arguing, weeping, talking… Three whole years until we were both in a place in life where we knew wha’ we wanted to have an’ give. An’ while it took a little longer for yer Papi to find out wha’ he felt for me, I was bloody gone from the first time I laid eyes on him.”  
  
Juice sniffled and Daddy rubbed his palm over his shoulders.  
  
“To be in a relationship like this, my boy, ye cannae give in to whatever sudden emotion ye feel, ye have to be strong. Not in the false confidence shite way, where ye force yerself to hold up a brave face in every situation, denying yerself the things ye wish for because ye’re ashamed. No, tha’s not strenght, lil’ one, an’ ye already know tha’. I love ye an’ yer Papi just as much, only not in the same way. An’ ye’re both stronger than ye think. Strong enough to live up to the deal we’ve made.”  
  
Daddy now made him look up, smiling at him with that scarred but so fucking beautiful face.   
  
“Ye understand me, Juice?”  
“Yes, Daddy. I… I trust you, even if I’m scared.”  
“Couldna wish for more, my boy.”  
“Daddy?”  
“Aye, lovey?”  
“May I say something that might sound like an insult, but is really a compliment?”  
  
Daddy chuckled now, his brown eyes so kind.   
  
”Go ahead, darlin’.”  
“Promise you wont be mad?”  
“I promise.”  
  
Juice took a deep breath, letting a finger brush over his lover’s cheek.  
  
“I love your scars, Daddy. They don’t… you’re not beautiful _despite_ them, you know…”  
  
Daddy swallowed and his eyes seemed slightly glassy.  
  
”Thank ye, Juicy.”  
  
He pulled Juice back into a hug, burying his mouth onto his neck.  
  
 “ _Thank ye_ , _my boy_ … _Thank ye…”_


End file.
